


The Devil's In The Detail

by ChiaRoseKuro



Series: SINning is Winning [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: (in the vaguest and least traumatic way I swear), Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Cock Rings, Crack, Domestic Violence (of sorts), Inappropriateness in General, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Satire, Sasuke probably knew what he was getting into though, There aren't enough SIN fics out there, There is Sai. You have been warned., Uzumaki Naruto-centric, Very Questionable Humor, brief one-sided Uchiha Sasuke/Haruno Sakura features for a chapter, inappropriate use of magic, self-indulgent bullshit in other words, violence against Sai in other words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9569501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaRoseKuro/pseuds/ChiaRoseKuro
Summary: By the time the smoke clears and he’s stopped feeling surprised, Naruto has a vague idea of what might appear. Someone lascivious, in all likelihood; probably naked too, with a pitchfork, a forked tail and little red horns. It’s how every mainstream artwork portrays the devil, after all.So when he sees a fully-clothed man with a duster stop in the middle of singing to the Bee Gee’sYou Should Be Dancing, Naruto thinks he’s completely justified in rolling his eyes.When Naruto's left with his godfather's house, magical artefacts and all, he gets to cleaning it out and organizing things. How hard can it be? (Answer: it's actually very hard, especially when you end up summoning things you can't get rid of while you're at it)( alternately, the one where Naruto's a dark magician in the making, Itachi and Sasuke are the absent rulers of hell, and the author's really glad they're not religious in any way, shape or form )





	1. What'cha Doin' in the Back?

**Author's Note:**

> If you're still wondering why I haven't updated _Word Play_... editing is a bitch. Also, I found myself being too serious in the rewrites that I was doing, so I tried to write something stupid and this ended up happening instead. Rambling aside, I honestly don't know how many chapters this is or whether it will ever be finished or not, because it's a series of vignettes on SIN in a magical 'verse. The tags are going to go through hell before I'm done because I'll be chucking in characters when the mood's right, going all over the place with things and generally experimenting with how ridiculous I can get without making things too crazy for everyone. For those of you who like to read a nice, well-paced story, you're not going to find that here; some chapters will be chronological, but the rest will be, as I said, vignettes. Little snapshots into SIN's dysfunctional lives, if you will.
> 
> I'll update the warnings as they come but, considering that this is a SIN fic, there's obviously going to be mentions of incest, homosexuality and polyamory. If you're not comfortable with that or blasphemous assumptions about heaven and hell, why in god's name did you click on this? Press the 'back' button before your soul descends into damnation and joins mine there; like all my other fics, I wrote this to be self-indulgent so I'm not looking to cop flak for it.
> 
> Special thanks to Dia and Oreo for plunging me into hell with [this prompt](http://writing-prompt-s.tumblr.com/post/154145969525/you-accidentally-punched-6666-into-your-ritual) despite neither of them knowing I'd use it for this end. I don't think either of them read or watch Naruto so... thanks guys, even though you'll never read this! If a chapter has other random bits of inspiration, I'll add it in an end note; but for now, enjoy the fic!

Two years of swearing, exotic infections from mouldy paper and nasty by-products of misfiring, self-contained spells later, Naruto found himself with three thousand loose-leaf pages and fifteen tomes organized on a groaning, complaining shelf. Jiraiya had likely enchanted it to be pissy for whatever reason, but he hadn’t come across a spell to jam a shelf’s dirty mouth yet. Trust his errant godfather to leave him every destructive spell known to man but leave out the counterspells to all of them.

The vicious sneeze which ripped out of him didn’t make Naruto feel any better about it all, either.

All the misfortune Naruto had suffered in the past two years said something about his godfather’s alignment (while explaining why Jiraiya had eventually left the world with a succubus, of all things). Not that it wasn’t surprising when he’d caught the pervert peeping every time they went near a public bath or visiting every available brothel in town, of course. It certainly explained why every whorehouse his godfather scathingly reviewed was inevitably struck down with a plethora of STDs around a month afterwards, at the very least. It also explained why every other magically-inclined person he knew stayed far, _far_ away from his godfather’s house and just about spat blood whenever Naruto mentioned he lived there.

Either way, living with and being related to the old pervert hadn’t been much of a concern for him– until he’d been left with every magical possession Jiraiya owned and thought it would be a good idea to organize it all. _Organize it, my arse,_ was the prevalent thought in his head when he really got into the entire bloody mess, but at least he’d managed to finish it.

Now all Naruto needed to do was walk away from the whole thing (and make sure nobody went near the still-cursing shelf) and he would be done. Leave his godfather’s crazy possessions to moulder in peace, return to his relatively strange life as an untrained magical being in a community of trained magical beings and grow old as peacefully as one could in such circumstances.

Except he didn’t, because immersing himself in dark magical artefacts had clearly done something to Naruto’s brain.

It was the only explanation he could give for the summoning circle he’s inscribing into the floor.

 

* * *

 

Naruto likes to think that it’s completely coincidental he happens to have red cranberries on hand. Honestly speaking, he’s not entirely sure _why_ there’s some in the fridge, but it’s a little like explaining why said kitchen appliance also croons Frank Sinatra’s songs whenever he goes near it. For an item owned by a man who couldn’t sing to save his life, it’s surprisingly good at staying on-tune.

It’s also very good at warping away his instant meals and replacing it with things he doesn’t eat, like red cranberries. Sometimes, he wonders why he bothers buying groceries at all when they disappear as soon as he goes to freeze them.

Temperamental appliances aside, though… Naruto finds himself humming along to _Come Fly with Me_ as he traces cursive runes into the outmost ring, flourishing the tails as per the parchment unfurled beside him. He’s not entirely sure what he’ll summon yet; the instructions _say_ they’re for gaining an audience with the devil, but past experience has taught him it’s equally likely to give him buck teeth and a rather severe case of gonorrhoea.

It’s not something he really wants to go through again, even if it _did_ convince his nasty stalker to back off when a cursed tome had given him just that. Protecting his ass virginity was great and all, but having little kids throw rocks at him and call him the village whore was just downright terrible.

Hopefully, though, the summoning circle would do exactly what it said it’d do. Naruto isn’t holding his breath when he uses the last of his cranberry juice to close the circle, but his hand do shake a little as he pricks his thumb and lets a drop of his blood fall in the middle.

It makes a faint smacking noise against the tiles, but that’s it.

Nothing happens, nothing changes and, soon enough, he can’t tell it from the cranberry juice slowly seeping into the floor.

Naruto’s just about to drag a mop from the laundry and clean up the mess when the ground shakes, the fridge pauses in its singing to shriek a little and the circle begins glowing. Before he can so much as gasp (or considering shrieking as well), the circle flashes blinding white and something akin to a localised explosion takes place. At least, there’s an awful lot of smoke and a peculiar ringing in his ears when he finally comes to.

By the time the smoke clears and he’s stopped feeling surprised, Naruto has a vague idea of what might appear. Someone lascivious, in all likelihood; probably naked too, with a pitchfork, a forked tail and little red horns. It’s how every mainstream artwork portrays the devil, after all.

So when he sees a fully-clothed man with a duster stop in the middle of singing to the Bee Gee’s _You Should Be Dancing_ , Naruto thinks he’s completely justified in rolling his eyes. _Of course_ Jiraiya’s darn spell would summon something as eccentric as himself; it’s just a blessing that his body hasn’t been spliced, infected or subjected to a curse yet.

Judging from the way the man glances at the still-shrieking fridge and sighs, Naruto’s propensity for optimism is not shared by his visitor. Not that it would be surprising if the man (who’s lacking a pitchfork, a forked tail or little red horns, now that he’s paying attention) _does_ turn out to be the devil… but he honestly can’t imagine a being of pure evil engaging in something as mundane as spring-cleaning, either.

Then the man waves his duster in the air, causes his fridge to give a final ear-piercing shriek as it combusts spontaneously, and Naruto’s suddenly revising his assessment of him. Considering that he tried to summon the king of the underworld, though, perhaps he should’ve expected it…

“If you wanted a cleaning sprite, these arrays should be straight.”

It’s not until Naruto’s almost impaled with a duster that he notices the man’s speaking to him, a finger pointing to a bunch of interweaving lines beneath his feet. He must’ve done something wrong because he gets stiff feathers in his chest and the man’s eyes narrow, but the voice he uses is still patient and even, if not a little low and imposing.

“Look here,” he instructs gravely, nodding his head in the direction his finger’s pointed for good measure. “You’ve let the matrix tangle up ten times; that’s ten times too many for your average low-level sprite. Also, you’ve used Aramaic where you should’ve used Persian.”

“Uhh… come again?” Naruto interjects.

This time, when the man jabs him in the chest with his duster, it leaves a charred hole in his shirt.

Naruto thinks he hears the man mutter something nasty under his breath, but he doesn’t have enough time to mull over it for long. His visitor (summons?) repeats himself, enunciating each word far slower than he did before, and he finally processes it enough to give a proper response.

“This did exactly what it was designed to do… that is, if you’re actually Satan.” Naruto waves vaguely at the parchment lying innocuously at his feet and misses the way the man’s eyes flash red, but he definitely doesn’t miss his sharp intake of breath.

“Well, I’m not,” the man replies. It’s a testament to how self-controlled his summons is when Naruto notices his eyes flashing red and his duster stays as it is, dusty and stiff-feathered and inert, but it doesn’t say anything about who or what he _actually_ is. He’s not aware he’s said anything aloud until the man sighs again, steps primly out of the circle and glances meaningfully at a part of his circle.

The faint _oh_ he lets slip is met with a very dry expression when he sees not three, but _four_ sixes staring back at him.

“Congratulations,” the man utters stoically, “you’ve just summoned Hypersatan.”

The only fitting response to _that_ is a very loud and very rude exclamation.

(and maybe a silent prayer for his godfather’s balls to shrivel and fall off, but nobody has to know)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title was inspired by the Bee Gee's _You Should Be Dancing_ , as those who know the song could probably gather. Also, the predominate image I had for this was one of Itachi dancing with a duster in his hand. I'm not even sorry.
> 
> This has absolutely nothing to do with the _Word Play_ slash _Stockpiled Mistakes_ world, for those who were wondering. For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/).


	2. No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “So let me get this straight,” Hypersatan says slowly. “You want to summon my little brother to test your latent magical powers, ask how your godfather was doing in hell… and then you think he’d just click his heels and go back to where he came from?”
>> 
>> “I’ve never done this before!” Naruto retorts defensively. “Besides, it’s not like Satan owns a pair of sparkly red shoes from a directionally-challenged witch!”
>> 
>> When Hypersatan gives him a flat yet long-suffering look, Naruto knocks his head against the couch. Of _course_ Satan was just as kooky as his older brother; he likely had a checked gingham dress in his closet and traipsed around hell with a dog stuffed under his arm.
> 
>   
>  Satan finally makes an appearance, Naruto's headaches double and everything is a lot worse than whatever shit went down in the magical land of Oz. 

“I can’t dismiss myself,” Hypersatan (“just Itachi, thank you,” he’d said, but the thought of being on a first-name basis with the ultimate symbol of evil made Naruto queasy) patiently explains for the fifth time.

Under normal circumstances, Naruto might’ve thought it odd that his summons was polite, despite being the embodiment of all things unholy and impure. He might’ve objected to having a being who could easily set him (and the surrounding town) on fire within arm’s length of him, too. And (pardon the pun) _like hell_ he’d ever thought he’d get to see Hypersatan engaging in a staring contest with his foul-mouthed shelf.

Except here he is, giving his best impression of puppy eyes to the overlord of the underworld. Not that Hypersatan deigns to notice him beyond the deepening wrinkles around his eyes, but Naruto supposes it’s hard for him to see much when he’s _engaging in a staring contest with his foul-mouthed shelf_.

Half-expecting the shelf to burst into flames like his fridge (or what was left of his fridge; the pathetic pile of ashes it’s been replaced with does sing a little, but he can’t really tell over the sounds of its sobbing) doesn’t stop Naruto’s mouth twisting wryly, though. Nor does it stop him from giving up on his pleading to roll his eyes and throw his arms into the air.

“But you’re _Hypersatan_ ,” Naruto argues back, also for the fifth time. “Higher ranked than Satan, supreme commander of hell; dismissing yourself should be a piece of cake for you!”

“I’m also summoned by you, which does not, in your words, make this ‘a piece of cake’.” Giving up on the shelf for the time being, his summons stalks over and settles into Naruto’s good armchair– which he’d be occupying, except making Hypersatan sit on a questionably stained couch is likely bad for his future wellbeing. He takes the moment to sink into the cushions while still looking imposing (frilly apron notwithstanding) and adds a tired, “It would be greatly appreciated if you could, because my living room needs dusting.”

“Don’t you have servants to take care of that?” Naruto curiously asks.

“I do, but when you find them fucking on your ottoman instead of cleaning it…”

Hypersatan takes the time to give him a thin smile when Naruto splutters and promptly turns red, before he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, dislodging a few strands from his low ponytail. “So yes, I need to leave. If you would be so kind as to lift the summons…”

Naruto smiles awkwardly beneath Hypersatan’s expectant gaze and scratches the back of his head, gaze skittering towards the snarling, spitting shelf. He silently gives thanks when it flings a tome with a truly aggravated noise, but the hand that comes to rest on his forearm stops him from hustling to it. When he turns back to look at his summons, there’s an eerily serene smile on Hypersatan’s face.

“You don’t know how to release me, do you?” On anyone else, that voice might’ve sounded kind; caring, even, in that way little old grannies were when they patted a stranger’s cheek and then rambled down memory lane. On Hypersatan, it makes goosebumps break out across Naruto’s skin and a strong chill race down his spine.

So Naruto thinks he can be forgiven when he squeaks, “it’s not my fault you can’t do it yourself!”

The shelf swears again, the pile of ashes that was once his fridge screams a little then sobs louder, and Hypersatan expels another sigh through his nose. Somewhere off to Naruto’s right, another tome is thrown to the ground, and the pale hand resting atop his forearm tightens, causing another wave of ice to flow through him.

“Naruto,” Hypersatan starts. The man in question shudders a little when he realizes he hasn’t given his name, but his summons continues in a quiet voice. “Hasn’t anyone taught you how to use magic?”

“No,” Naruto replies. “Also, how do you know my name?”

“I’m Hypersatan,” is the bland response, “and you’re an idiot. If you haven’t been taught and you found several dark artefacts, all of which could go wrong if you didn’t perform them correctly, then what possessed you to try in the first place?”

“I’m not an idiot!” Naruto yells indignantly. “I was just curious! What, is it _that_ bad that I wanted to try the first thing that caught my eye?!”

“Yes, if it’s summoning the lord of hell,” Hypersatan replies dryly.

“But I summoned _you_ , didn’t I? So it was all good in the end!” With a noise more suited to a drowned cat than a human, Naruto rolls his eyes heavenwards, springs up from the couch and adds, for extra measure, “now for the love of ramen, get going so I can summon Satan, see if I can perform a summons properly and ask if my godfather’s still got his balls intact!”

In the silence that follows, a tome comes dangerously close to hitting Naruto’s head.

“So let me get this straight,” Hypersatan says slowly. “You want to summon my little brother to test your latent magical powers, ask how your godfather was doing in hell… and then you think he’d just click his heels and go back to where he came from?”

“I’ve never done this before!” Naruto retorts defensively. “Besides, it’s not like Satan owns a pair of sparkly red shoes from a directionally-challenged witch!”

When Hypersatan gives him a flat yet long-suffering look, Naruto knocks his head against the couch. Of _course_ Satan was just as kooky as his older brother; he likely had a checked gingham dress in his closet and traipsed around hell with a dog stuffed under his arm. Hell, if his older brother grooved along to old disco songs and used a duster as a mic, anything was possible, _right?_

“For the record,” Hypersatan adds, grimacing with every dull _thud_ Naruto’s head makes, “he gave the witch amnesia after she tried to force herself on him. The shoes are purely for recreational purposes when one of his subjects disobey him.”

“Because that gives me a _better_ image of you demons, does it?” Naruto groans, giving up on his head-banging attempts to slump further into his couch. “God, what the _hell_ was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” is the curt reply he gets.

It’s not until Naruto’s gaze catches the pronounced wrinkle in Hypersatan’s nose that uttering the Lord’s name was likely a bad idea. Not that he’s not in deep shit already, what with the supreme overlord of the underworld (and the older brother of _Satan_ , to boot) being his summons and all, but his chances of making it out alive are looking slimmer with each passing second.

The contemplative stare Hypersatan’s giving him isn’t helping his chances, either.

“Well,” Hypersatan eventually says, after he’s let Naruto squirm for a few minutes, “I _might_ know a way to dismiss me…”

Naruto’s already got his brightest grin and his best set of puppy eyes on him when he shoots up from the couch and barrels over to Hypersatan. As the plan is explained to him, though, the grin fades and the light in his eyes is eventually snuffed… but what other choice does he have?

Which is why Naruto finds himself staring at his erstwhile fridge exactly five minutes later.

 

* * *

 

There’s less crooning and more wailing, but Naruto’s still struck by the sense of déjà vu he gets as he crouches down, dips his finger in a bowl of cranberry juice and traces a circles onto his kitchen tiles. It had taken a rather unimpressed look from Hypersatan to remember that he had a summons and that said summons was more than capable of procuring a bag of red cranberries on his behalf, but he honestly doesn’t want to think about it too much. The less he focuses on the smoke lazily curling past his window, the better it will be for his dwindling sanity.

This time, there’s a soothing (if not mildly terrifying) voice murmuring in his ear as Naruto draws runes and finally, _finally_ , remembers to limit the number of sixes to three this time around. He’s still not really sure how summoning Satan would result in dismissing the both of them, but…

“Trust me,” Hypersatan had said, “no magician has ever summoned more than one being, especially two powerful demons, and managed to retain them both.”

“Did they keep their lives?” Naruto had asked sceptically.

Hypersatan hadn’t replied, but Naruto’s not going to sit around and think of better alternatives. Besides, the guy had multiple opportunities to kill him; if he hasn’t taken them before, then surely he’s not going to take them now.

 _Or maybe he can’t_ , is the thought that swims to mind, but Naruto represses it as best as he can when he pricks his thumb and lets a drop of blood plop down. There’s nothing like being optimistic in the face of near-certain death– and if he can survive an hour in Hypersatan’s proximity, he can survive just about anything the damn world wants to throw at him.

So when the circle flashes blood red and another localised explosion happens, Naruto shuts his eyes and lets the ringing in his ears fade away.

Unfortunately, the sight that greets him is hardly any better than the last one.

Satan was clearly in the middle of something, if his disgruntled appearance is anything to go by. Naruto has just enough time to note that he doesn’t have a pitchfork, a forked tail or little horns when the smoke clears entirely and he gets a full frontal view of Satan in all his naked glory. He thinks he can be forgiven for screaming a little and slapping a hand over his eyes; it’s not like he sees nude men all the time, after all.

Nevermind the fact that Satan was hung like a goddamn _horse_ , but that was beside the point.

“What the _fuck_ ,” is the eloquent response Satan gives, though he makes no move to cover himself (figures, really, when he’s got sex demons running rampant in hell). “Itachi, if you want to see me naked, at least _wait_ until I’m done with my shower.”

As much as he doesn’t want to get a faceful of naked Satan again, Naruto bravely uncovers his eyes and very, _very_ carefully lets his gaze wander until it’s settled on Hypersatan. The trauma of seeing a nude man in his periphery is completely worth the blank expression on Hypersatan’s pale face, he thinks.

The audible swallow he makes is just a bonus, really.

Still, Hypersatan does a passable job of recomposing himself, fixing his gaze just a little above Satan’s junk and replying with a strained, “Sasuke, I can explain.”

Naruto suspects that he’ll be dead if he so much as smiles at the blatant lie in that, but this is _Hypersatan_ he’s talking about. It’s not as though he’s a pariah of good morals, now, is he? He does his best to disguise his snort as a cough regardless, though the way Hypersatan’s eyes flicker red don’t exactly bode well for him.

It’s just a good thing that he’s a little busy ogling his little brother’s dick in the least subtle manner possible, then. That way, he can quietly sneak out when things get too awkward, hope Hypersatan’s too absorbed in the naked body of his younger brother to care and make a break for freedom.

He’ll think about the moral implications of Hypersatan’s fascination in Satan later. Much, _much_ later.

For now, Naruto’s going to struggle with the knowledge that summoning Satan did _not_ dispel Hypersatan and let the ramifications sink in. Preferably after he finds a way to get Satan clothed and stops Hypersatan’s perversion in its tracks– because the blood trickling from his nose might not be dripping into his circle, but he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his day mopping his goddamn kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title, for those who didn't catch the reference in the summary, was from _The Wizard of Oz_ ; don't ask me why that popped up here because I wouldn't know the answer. The predominate image in my mind was just Naruto getting traumatized over the sight of Sasuke's junk and Itachi not-so-subtly ogling it. Honestly, I'd be Itachi, except I suck at being subtle so I'd just go for full-on ogling.
> 
> For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/). Also, feel free to drop an ask if you want to see a particular scene appearing; once I'm done with introducing everyone and making certain that Naruto's in deep shit, I'll start writing for whatever image pops into mind. Not that I'm doing it already... but the thought counts, right?


	3. Next to Godliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “I _said_ , why the _fuck_ don’t you have _hair conditioner_ , not ‘act like a little virgin’,” Satan snarls, red eyes boring into Naruto’s with a truly venomous gaze, “or are you more of a moron than Itachi let on?”
>> 
>> “ _Hypersatan_ ,” Naruto starts, valiantly staving off the onset of hysteria, “is the one with long hair, not me. Your hair’s going to be fine if you don’t condition it for a day, you prissy dick. Besides, what kind of metrosexual demon needs hair conditioner?”
>> 
>> “This one,” Satan deadpans.
> 
> Naruto gets dragged, kicking and screaming, from his solitary bachelor life. Also, Sasuke's 50% clothed, 100% offensive and too fussy to rate (and Itachi's functioning as the voice of reason, barely). 

When Naruto had awoken to a note pinned to his forehead, almost two years ago, it had taken him a while to relish his godfather’s departure from the world. For one, the pin had _hurt_ ; he still doesn’t know how Jiraiya got it there, but it took a whole lot of whimpering, uncontrollable crying and ginger movements to pluck the thing out. For another, it had taken a while for the hookers his godfather employed to realize that no, his godson had no interest in women climbing into his bed at 3 in the morning. Even when he’d called the police the first few times, both parties had thought it a joke.

He’d had to hex off a hooker’s tits with one of the few spells he’d mastered (courtesy of the old pervert) before everyone had left him in peace. Well, after the lawsuit the hooker had tried to file, but that had been settled with the stronger countersuit he’d threatened them with.

Either way, around two weeks had passed before Naruto really grew into living alone; the enchanted furniture didn’t count, of course, even if he _did_ get into a few shouting matches with his bathroom mirror. Two years of being responsible for his actions and his actions only… two years of waking up and doing things at his own pace… there was nothing quite like walking around the house and knowing your perverted godfather wasn’t having loud sex somewhere within it.

So, understandably, having Satan and Hypersatan in his house was a little annoying. Knowing that they were there _indefinitely_ , until he figured out a way to dismiss them, only made it worse.

Which was why Naruto had left Hypersatan to his gawking, turned his back on the devils and stalked out the kitchen. Had he any less self-control, he might’ve gone the way of his former fridge and cried– but he didn’t, because he was a big boy, and he needed to come up with a plan to get rid of them.

 

* * *

 

“Why the fuck don’t you have hair conditioner?” is the first question Satan asks, a few minutes after the lord of hell had unceremoniously walked into the shower to finish his affairs.

Naruto had almost gotten a heart attack when he passed the bathroom and the door slammed open, revealing a very wet and very naked Satan. His brain was functional enough to make him reflexively raise his hand and slap it over his eyes, but a cold hand thwarted his efforts and pried it away– and now he’s got a faceful of naked devil _again_. He’d curse God for the fuckfest that’s somehow becoming his life, but he needs to get away from this disaster first.

Which, unfortunately, is a lot harder than it sounds.

“I _said_ , why the _fuck_ don’t you have _hair conditioner_ , not ‘act like a little virgin’,” Satan snarls, red eyes boring into Naruto’s with a truly venomous gaze, “or are you more of a moron than Itachi let on?”

“ _Hypersatan_ ,” Naruto starts, valiantly staving off the onset of hysteria, “is the one with long hair, not me. Your hair’s going to be fine if you don’t condition it for a day, you prissy dick. Besides, what kind of metrosexual demon needs hair conditioner?”

“This one,” Satan deadpans, uncaring of all the water he’s tracking onto the carpet (and Naruto would cry at this, but again– he’s trying to be a big boy here). “Unlike your rat’s nest, my hair requires—”

“Eau de bastard?” Naruto snarks back. As much as he wants to keep living, there’s something about Satan that rubs him the wrong way ( _platonically_ , because he’s definitely not thinking about how the guy’s got a good few inches on his own junk) and the insults fly unbidden from his mouth.

Judging from the way Satan’s eyes narrow, the sentiment is shared.

“Look,” Satan eventually sighs, after Naruto’s managed to keep his eyes on a dry bit of nose, “I’ve got better things to do than argue with some ignorant mortal boy, so I’m just going to finish my shower and condition my hair when I’m home. And for the record, I’m not metrosexual; I’m homosexual. Get your facts straight, idiot.”

When the door slams in Naruto’s face, he mutters something nasty beneath his breath and gingerly steps around the wet stain creeping across the hallway. He resolutely doesn’t think about anything the devil said or what he’s likely doing in his shower and, before long, all is peace and quiet.

Well, except for the spitting, intricately wrapped shelf, but that’s a problem for another time.

 

* * *

 

Considering that Hypersatan had been summoned with his cleaning equipment and all, it shouldn’t have surprised Naruto to see him sweeping away the begging, pleading remains of his fridge. Still, it’s not like he gets to see the supreme devil wiggling his hips and humming to Bee Gees songs every day, so he thinks he can be forgiven for the quizzical look he’s sporting.

Not that Hypersatan cares, if his smooth transition from _Night Fever_ to _Jive Talkin’_ is anything to go by.

Still, it’s not like Naruto can tell Hypersatan to stop when he doesn’t want to test the whole ‘summons can kill their summoners’ theory (he doesn’t buy it… but better to be safe than sorry, really), so he lets his gaze skitter away after a few pointed seconds. Eyeing the rather vocal pile of ashes with a hint of trepidation, he makes himself comfortable at the dining table– or as comfortable as he can get when there’s the supreme overlord of hell dancing an arm’s length from him.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me,” Hypersatan eventually asks, in the middle of what _should’ve_ been an instrumental break, “or were you hoping I’d make you a sandwich?”

Naruto opens his mouth, thinks for a moment, settles on keeping his opinions about domestic chores to himself and eventually opts for a safer, “Nah, I just wanted to know why you couldn’t have just made the shelf shut up _without_ making it completely useless.”

“Because it was useful when it was flinging your books everywhere, was it?” Hypersatan’s voice could likely suck moisture from the air, but it doesn’t deter him from adding a resigned, “That’s not really what you came to ask, though.”

Even if Naruto knows that clapping his hands over his ears won’t stop his bastard of a summons from reading his thoughts, he does it with a loud growl anyway. Judging from the smirk lifting one corner of Hypersatan’s mouth, he knows _exactly_ what he’s thinking despite it all.

And here he’d been, assuming that Hypersatan was nicer because he was more polite. Perhaps he should’ve paid attention in English class more; goodness knows that he could’ve done with a warning from… oh, who knows, _the hyper- prefix_ perhaps.

“As entertaining as this is, I _really_ don’t know which question you want to ask me,” Hypersatan says, hints of amusement still evident in his smooth tone. “So you’ll have to say them if you don’t want to sit like that forever.”

Naruto gives vent to a few choice expletives and a very unimpressed scowl before he drops his hands, but Hypersatan’s negligent grace doesn’t subside when he leans against the kitchen island and stares levelly at him. Now that he’s received the supreme ruler of hell’s undivided attention, though… there’s questions chasing each other in his head, but none linger for long. It takes a few minutes of staring at an interesting scratch on the counter to summon the semblance of a query– and by this time, there’s less grace and more forced ease in Hypersatan’s posture.

“I’m guessing Satan can’t release himself, can he.” It’s pitched as a statement but leaves his mouth more uncertain than anything else, so Naruto’s not surprised when Hypersatan gives him a flat look for his efforts. Another deep breath, another minute to ponder, and then—

“No, moron, we can’t tell you how to break the summons either,” Satan drawls, and saunters in with clothes three sizes too small.

Naruto spends the next minute choking on his laughter and then three more wheezing at the looks on Hypersatan’s and Satan’s faces. If he gets killed (he’d say ‘go to hell’, but he’s not sure whether the two demons would torture themselves like that) then so be it, because Satan wearing a tight black tee with ‘SPANK ME’ scrawled on the back is _priceless_.

Judging by the suspicious twitch to Hypersatan’s lips, he’s not immune to childish pranks, either.

Still, guffawing like the idiot he isn’t won’t really help him with dispelling satanic summons, so Naruto wrestles himself under control with a few hiccups and a hurried swipe of his eyes. Making a mental note to thank his godfather for the gag gift (that he could swear to throwing away… but that was a mystery for another day), he finds himself staring into Satan’s incensed eyes when he finally looks up.

They’re red and swirling in a strangely hypnotic way, which would’ve been weird if he hadn’t been so entranced by them. Thankfully, Hypersatan’s pointed cough makes him snap out of it and, as he drags himself away from Satan’s suspiciously smug (and brown; how the hell did he do that?) eyes, he pulls his wits together in time to see the two demons trade loaded glances.

“Naruto,” Hypersatan eventually utters, “there is no bargaining with the demons of hell. Even if you managed to outwit us—”

“Which you won’t,” Satan interjected, with the exact tone of voice that would’ve usually incited a prolonged fist-fight, on anyone else.

“—summons cannot do two things,” Hypersatan continued flatly. “We cannot dismiss ourselves, and we cannot do anything to aid in our dismissal. Even if you order us to dismiss ourselves, we cannot do it.”

“So if nobody else tells me how to,” Naruto says slowly, “you’re stuck with me forever?”

“Give the man a prize,” Satan mutters.

Hypersatan, though far politer than his younger brother, gives the same unfavourable response.

Naruto looks between the two demons with the best set of puppy eyes he’s got but, when he only manages to elicit a scoff from Satan and a longsuffering smile from Hypersatan, the answers sink in and his eyes become deader than anything else. He had all of two years to enjoy his solitude, a meagre seven hundred days to indulge in his own whims, and now… now…

“If I have to hear you think ‘Satan’ one more time, I’m going to kill you,” Satan– _Sasuke_ – spits.

This time, when Naruto gives his very loud and very rude exclamation, he doesn’t just hope Jiraiya’s balls with shrivel and fall off; he hopes they’ll explode and incapacitate him while they’re at it. That, or the succubus he’s with doesn’t have sex for the next fucking decade. He’s kinda not picky when his life is just about _ruined_ and he’s, quite literally, wrestling with the devil.

“Devil still counts, moron!”

“ _Oh shut the **fuck** up, bastard!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being uninspired and a little confused with what the chapter might be referencing, the chapter title is taken from the well-known quote, "cleanliness is next to godliness"; considering how godly any of these characters are, though, I might change it in the future. Once again, my brain conjured up images of naked Sasuke (coupled with wet hair and glowering eyes... mm...), but the predominate image was fighting. Also, a pin stuck through Naruto's head. Don't ask me why those were the images I got because I really wouldn't know what to say.
> 
> For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/). Since I'm done introducing everyone, I'll start the vignetting business soon enough... except being stuck with around four predominate and vastly different mental images makes for a very indecisive and unhappy author. I won't guarantee regular updates anymore, though I'll do my best to keep it as steady as I can, but please drop in any requests you might have in my [ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask/) if you'd like to help me out!


	4. What in the Blazes?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “I’m just an anomaly they need to deal with,” Naruto dryly finishes, taking great pleasure in picking up a bit of brick and squashing a rather adventurous tendril with it. “Great, just great; hell doesn’t just look like a three-year-old’s painting, it’s hiding _soul-sucking plants_ in it.”
>> 
>> “ _Purgatory_ , moron, not hell.” With a pronounced roll of his eyes, Sasuke jerks his thumb towards a spot in the distance and goes, “ _that’s_ hell.”
>> 
>> A few seconds of squinting is all Naruto needs to see what Sasuke meant earlier, not that it was hard to miss the flames shooting intermittently into the sky. If he listened closely, he could even hear faint screams in the distance and see what looked to be two guards at the end of the yellow brick road.
>> 
>> “How charming,” Naruto deadpans.
> 
>   
> Bananas are fried, fires are lit and Naruto's just glad he doesn't have a checked gingham dress to seal the deal. Also, the author realizes that fitting more than two substantial scenes into a chapter is clearly not the right way to go, so it's being split into two. 

Itachi, Naruto quickly discovers, is scarily good at being passive-aggressive. As much as he wants to remain ignorant of the fact, he was a little sick of the chills he got whenever he saw pointed smiles directed at him. Hell, he can’t enjoy his snacks without having a duster (set _alight_ , more often than not) brandished in his face, and he can’t even remember the last time he had a shower where the hot water _didn’t_ mysteriously disappear midway through it!

Of course, Itachi has other peculiar quirks. Naruto had almost laughed himself silly when he’d seen Hypersatan’s eyes watering– _watering!_ – at the end of romantic movies and he could never quite muffle his snickers whenever the supreme overlord of hell made faces at sweets. Still, as amusing (and as faintly creepy) as it is to see Itachi act more like a human than the nefarious being he is, he doesn’t think he would’ve minded as much if that was it. Kookiness, he could handle; but this?

If there were a receipt then Naruto would’ve asked for a refund _ages_ ago.

Instead, he’s left to shriek, “For _fuck’s_ sake, Itachi, _stop setting my bananas on fire!_ ”

Being the demon that he is, Itachi only smiles vaguely in response and keeps the impromptu torch burning. With a sound that resembles a drowned cat more than anything else, Naruto drops his half-eaten banana before it burns his palm and watches it turn to ashes on the counter. The situation doesn’t improve when tendrils of smoke waft into the fire alarm and he gets bombarded with loud wailing, accompanied by the terrified fridge– which, despite his best efforts, acts just like the old one.

“Okay, look,” Naruto growls, when his ears have stopped ringing and the surprisingly delicious aroma of fried banana (along with the unsurprisingly acrid stench of carbon) is mostly gone, “bananas aren’t exactly _cheap_ , you know.”

“So you wouldn’t mind me burning something else, then?” Itachi quips.

The growl that leaves Naruto is hardly as frightening as Sasuke’s when his beauty sleep’s interrupted, but he still counts it as a win when Itachi’s light smile fades a little. He’s barely tallied up the score (Itachi’s leading by so much that he’s only counting his own wins) when Itachi leans in with a decidedly neutral set to his mouth and sweeps away the remnants of his banana. It’s not until he’s fixing himself a glass of orange juice that he gets the reason for his summon’s passive-aggressive actions.

Even then, it takes Itachi mumbling a melancholy, “the amount of dust in my living room now...” for Naruto to get it.

Being the sensitive and tactful person that he is, the first thing out of Naruto’s mouth ends up being a grumpy, “who knew Hypersatan was so domestic?”

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised Naruto to get a flaming duster shoved near his nether regions. Not that it stops him from yelling and dumping his juice on his pants when said pants catch on fire, of course, but it was the natural thing to do when one’s privates were in danger of being fried. Bananas were alright if they were fried, but _this_ particular variety of banana was _not_ meant for frying.

“I,” Itachi starts over Naruto’s indignant and terrified shouts, “am not _domestic_. I simply appreciate a clean house, and returning to a month’s worth of dust is not my idea of clean.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to shove a burning duster _near my dick!_ ” Naruto fairly screeches.

“Well, colour me surprised,” says a new voice. “I wouldn’t have realized you had one from that shriek.”

With a snarl that is equal parts anger and irritation, Naruto launches himself at Sasuke’s smug face. There’s only a moment to register the dangerous gleam in his eyes before his fist is caught in one hand and his nose almost breaks against the wall, but a flaming duster manages to save him from complete and utter annihilation at Satan’s hands. Clearly, his self-taught attempts at unarmed combat were no match for Itachi’s magically-intact cleaning supplies and Sasuke’s self-defensive manoeuvres… yet.

“Sasuke, you are not three years old,” Itachi flatly utters, seemingly unaware of Naruto’s increasingly murderous thoughts. “If you want to pull his pigtails then wait for them to grow out a little, please.”

“That is _disgusting_ ,” Sasuke emphatically replies, just as Naruto shouts an aggrieved, “what the _hell?_ ”

“But as lovely as this all is,” Itachi continues, steamrollering over Naruto’s protests, “I would like to clean my house in the near future. So if you may…”

Naruto manages to squirm out of Sasuke’s slackened grip when Itachi moves over to retrieve his unlit duster, but the expectant gaze on the back of his head feels heavier than the hand that was previously on his nape. Scuffing the toe of his sock on the tiles, it took little time for a hand to descend onto his shoulder and squeeze gently, sending a wave of ice flowing down his spine.

It doesn’t help that there’s a familiar and incredibly eerie smile on Itachi’s face, when Naruto turns around. The fact that Sasuke seems to be enjoying his misery only worsens the whole situation, really.

“You know,” Itachi starts in a conversational tone, “rather than learning taekwondo, you should be brushing up on your magic. That way, I won’t need to… ‘shove a burning duster near your dick’, as you put it.”

“But if you’d like to save yourself, mortal, I’ll give you a free tip.” Leaning against the doorframe with an insufferable smirk on his face, Sasuke utters an amused, “summons exist for a reason other than neutering you for the greater good.”

“ _What_ greater good, asshole?” Naruto screeches, almost shaking off Itachi’s hand before he catches himself.

“And _you_ ,” he snarls, gaze snapping to Itachi’s suspiciously wobbling lips, “need to _mind your own business_. Now let me eat my goddamn snack and go back to hell already!”

By the time Naruto processes Sasuke’s widened eyes and his soft exclamation of surprise, Itachi’s already stepping towards him with an outstretched hand. This time, when he feels a cool hand around his wrist, he doesn’t just get chills; he gets _goosebumps_.

“Hey, hang on, wait a moment,” Naruto babbles, but—

“As you wish,” Itachi graciously utters over him, before he lifts his other hand and snaps his fingers.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Naruto knew, he was standing on a yellow brick road with an unpeeled banana in his hand, flanked by two pale bastards with identical smirks.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Naruto says, sidestepping some grass peeking between two bricks and eyeing its tendrils as they creep towards him, “when I said ‘go back to hell’, I didn’t say ‘bring me back with you’. Also, this wasn’t what I thought hell would be like.”

“You’re just too stupid to make the distinction.” Rolling his eyes and nudging the grass with his foot, Sasuke’s smirk widens as it burst into flames, before he adds, “but don’t worry; your artists weren’t completely wrong about everything in hell.”

“Yeah, that’s if they’re going for the whole _Wizard of Oz_ feel,” Naruto grouses back, choosing to ignore Sasuke’s insult in favour of flinching away from a sentient bit of corn. “Just inject a little bloodlust and it’ll be a perfect replica of the book!”

“What Sasuke means to say,” Itachi interjects calmly, setting the entire cornfield ablaze and smiling lightly at Sasuke’s scowl, “is that you haven’t quite entered hell yet. This is only… purgatory, as you mortals call it.”

“This _still_ doesn’t look like any painting I know,” Naruto huffs around a mouthful of banana. “I mean, where’s all the damned souls working their way to heaven? What’s with all the yellow and green, and _why do these plants keep trying to clutch me?!_ ”

“They _like_ you,” Sasuke hums, scowl dissolving into the widest and most malicious smile Naruto’s ever seen, “so much that they want to suck your soul out of you.”

“ _In other words_ ,” Itachi adds firmly, before Naruto can react to Sasuke’s response, “these plants are conditioned to remove people’s souls. Ordinarily, everyone entering hell is dead or soulless, so…”

“I’m just an anomaly they need to deal with,” Naruto dryly finishes, taking great pleasure in picking up a bit of brick and squashing a rather adventurous tendril with it. “Great, just _great_ ; hell doesn’t just look like a three-year-old’s painting, it’s hiding _soul-sucking plants_ in it.”

“ _Purgatory_ , moron, not hell.” With a pronounced roll of his eyes, Sasuke jerks his thumb towards a spot in the distance and goes, “ _that’s_ hell.”

A few seconds of squinting is all Naruto needs to see what Sasuke meant earlier, not that it was hard to miss the flames shooting intermittently into the sky. If he listened closely, he could even hear faint screams in the distance and see what looked to be two guards at the end of the yellow brick road.

“How charming,” Naruto deadpans.

“Isn’t it?” Itachi breezily replies, and picks up his pace.

By the time Naruto steps off the bricks and onto whatever passed for a road in hell (“semi-molten rocks,” Sasuke had gleefully told him. “I hope you misstep and it _burns you alive_ ,” Naruto had snarled back, wincing as a bit of lint fell off his sock and sizzled in the lava), it’s clear that the guards are doing anything but guarding. They could’ve been doing worse, considering what they were guarding, but…

“Purple nurples?” Naruto wonders aloud.

“What would you have preferred to see, a blowjob?” Sasuke fires back.

“ _Sasuke_ ,” Itachi sighs, longsuffering despite the slight curve of his lips, “don’t give the guards ideas.”

“But they’re such nice ideas, even if they come from Big Dick,” a new voice interjects.

A turn of his head ascertains the identity of the speaker; it’s one of the two guards who had been giving purple nurples to each other, Naruto quickly realizes, but that’s not what keeps him staring. It’s bad enough that the guard’s got a crop-top on, but there’s also a pair of the most indecently short hot pants he’s ever seen on a person… and how were the guy’s legs so _pale?_

And then Naruto promptly splutters, turns a brilliant shade of red and tells himself to stop ogling the guard. From the way he’s smiling blandly back at him, though, it’s clear that he was caught in the act.

“How cute,” the guard utters, voice just as dry as the expression on his face. “Did you bring someone dickless back to hell so you’d be balanced out, Big Dick?”

“ _Shut up, Sai_ ,” Sasuke hisses, looking more mortified and enraged than Naruto’s ever seen him before. “How many times do I have to threaten you before you stop using that _fucking_ nickname?”

“And why the hell am I _dickless_?” Naruto yells, pointing a shaking finger at the guard’s face.

“Because you are,” the guard– Sai, from what Sasuke said– replies, reaching forward and unashamedly cupping Naruto’s crotch. “Why else would you look at my dick so much?”

The strangled scream Naruto makes, when Sai squeezes just a little too hard, is entirely cut off when Itachi sighs, leans forward and sets the guard’s hand on fire. He’d be embarrassed by how quickly he recoiled from the burning appendage, except he’s still of the opinion that some bananas are simply _not_ meant to be fried. Glaring darkly at Itachi’s back, he pretends he doesn’t see the way Sai’s ignoring the fact that _his hand is on fire_ , if his smile is anything to go by.

That is, if the incredibly fake quirk of his lips could _count_ as a smile.

“How mature of you, Incestuous,” Sai hums, neatly sidestepping the flaming duster that would’ve otherwise impaled him, “but as fun as this is, your absence has caused some… problems.”

“Like _you’re_ not enough of one,” Sasuke snidely says, but his smirk doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Enough, Sasuke,” Itachi murmurs.

Naruto had never been known for his insightfulness… but in that moment, as his gaze flitted from his summons’ tight lips to the guard’s blank eyes, it was clear that something was amiss. What it _was_ and what that meant for _him_ , a mortal in the realms of the afterlife, was completely beyond him, but…

“It’s too late to ask if I can go home, isn’t it?” Naruto asks anyway.

“Your intelligence never fails to astound me,” Sasuke drolly replies, and drags him straight into hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, special thanks to [likesthistoo](http://likesthistoo.tumblr.com/) for nominating this particular scenario! For those who may not look at my tumblr, the scenario nominated was titled 'hell on earth' before I'd written it up and... you can probably guess what the basic idea is, now that you've read through the chapter.
> 
> The chapter title was inspired by my love for all things British, hence the phrase used, and the predominate image was a lot of fire. Also, _The Wizard of Oz_ somehow managed to make a reappearance despite my best intentions. Other images that popped into mind were Naruto drawing horrifying parallels between fried bananas and his anatomy, flying + flaming feather dusters, and Sai being a dick. I'd apologize for Sai's rudeness, but he's one of my favourite characters (and I would say 50% of the things he said) so... I'm not sorry? Maybe. Possibly.
> 
> For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/). Also, feel free to drop an ask if you want to see a particular scene appearing; I'm still taking responses or expressions of interest so head on over to [this poll](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/post/157425922381/the-devils-in-the-detail-poll) or [my ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask) to drop a suggestion. Alternately, just post a comment here, seeing as I look at all of them anyway~


	5. Smoothing Out Kinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Naruto takes one look at Sai’s half-bald head, the uncharacteristic smiles on the devils’ faces, and resolutely stares at his blackening socks. Gaara pauses beside him, gaze growing more inquisitive with every moment he spends still and silent, but he doesn’t answer the unvoiced question in his eyes when he moves again.
>> 
>> The only thing he deigns to say is, “this problem had better be serious if _this_ is supposed to be common.”
>> 
>> . . .
>> 
>> Faced with a melting chandelier dangling precariously by a thread, Naruto can safely say that this is _definitely_ a problem.
> 
>   
>  The second guard is introduced, a problem is diagnosed and fixed, and Naruto suffers from Hell's insanity. Also, Sai goes from pleasantly invasive to sexually harassing in almost every facet. Nobody is amused, except for Sai (and everyone else not caught in the kerfuffle). 

The second guard, Naruto eventually discovers, is called Gaara; the only reason he _does_ is because of some demon launching themselves at him, screaming bloody murder and then just blood when the guard wrenches their arm off their body. Unsmiling and reticent, he walks right down the path and doesn’t make any noise, even when his foot dips into a puddle of lava instead of stepping onto solid rock. Honestly, Naruto’s not really sure how someone this serious and straight-faced could’ve been giving someone a purple nurple, but there are likely stranger things in life.

A glance to his left, where Naruto can see Sai attempting to tie Sasuke’s hair with pink hairties, simply confirms it.

If Naruto closes his eyes, he can almost pretend he’s walking a random street in his neighbourhood. Sure, there’s the strangely discomforting feeling of heat seeping through his socks, not to mention the hissing and bubbling of molten lava, but it’s not that much different than home. It’s a bit weird to compare a place of sinners and fiery damnation to home, but… what else can he do?

“It must be nice, living on the surface.”

Naruto doesn’t connect the low, rumbling voice to Gaara until he turns and finds green eyes gazing solemnly at him. Even then, he allows Sasuke’s murderous yells and Sai’s hollow laughter to wash over him before his tongue unsticks itself, words tumbling uncertainly over each other as he replies.

“I don’t really… think about it much?” Naruto winces a little when Gaara’s eyes narrow, but he rushes on with, “I mean, I’ve never lived anywhere else. Hell isn’t that bad, is it?”

There’s a heartbeat of silence and a quiet hiss as Gaara’s foot plunges into another puddle of molten lava, before there’s a thoughtful, “I have been in hell for so long that my memories of the surface are few and far between. Even so…”

Gaara raises his hand, still bloodied from the demon before, and murmurs a melancholy, “not all of hell’s demons are suited to its depths.”

Neither rhyme nor reason can justify the way Naruto’s hand reaches for Gaara’s shoulder. For a single moment, his hand hovers above the demon’s pale skin, but then it descends and he pats him, a little awkwardly but with feeling nonetheless. When he removes his hand, there’s wide green eyes staring at him. It’s a little concerning to see Gaara’s feet planted squarely in rapidly-cooling lava while he’s doing his staring, but the words just don’t come and his mouth stays resolutely dry.

Then there’s an arm looping around his waist and a breathy tickle of laughter in his ear, and Naruto launches into action with a flailing yelp.

“You’d think someone was going to rape you, Dickless,” Sai hums a little later, rubbing at the fist-shaped bruise forming on his cheek. “Hasn’t Big Dick made a move on you yet?”

“Don’t _joke_ about that shit,” Naruto hisses, fully aware that he’s arguing with a creature of hell (and a sexual one at that, judging by his scanty clothing) but uncaring nonetheless, “and no, Sasuke would be dead if he laid a finger on me.”

“Funny,” comes a bored drawl, “I could’ve sworn I was strangling you the last time around.”

“So you’re into breath play? Kinky.” The salacious wink Sai gives is completely ruined by his flat tone, but Naruto finds it in himself to swing his fist at the demon anyway. From the way Sasuke’s hands are curling into fists by his side, he suspects he won’t be the only one throwing punches before long.

Before Naruto can give Sai a matching bruise on his other cheek, there’s a hand snaking forth to pull him back. For one sickening moment, his sock-covered foot hangs precariously over a pool of bubbling lava, but his arse eventually makes contact with (relatively) safe ground and he finds himself atop sharp rocks.

“Please stop injuring my subject, Naruto,” Itachi utters, faint exasperation evident in his tone, “and Sai, leave him alone.”

“How cute; Incestuous found someone else to mother over,” Sai chirps, insincerity scrawled all over his features. His nose scrunches a little when Sasuke flings a few pink hairties at him, but there’s still hints of airy blandness in his tone when he adds, “but I just wanted to know: does Dickless call you ‘daddy’ or ‘mommy’ in bed?”

This time, there’s no saving Sai from the ball of fire flying towards his face. Even though he manages to duck his head a little, half his hair is on fire by the time Naruto’s looking at him again. There’s two smirks filled with malice and vindictiveness when the guard stares bemusedly at his burning hair and decides to shriek, about five seconds too late, but his attention wanders away pretty quickly.

“Is this an everyday occurrence in hell?” Naruto asks Gaara, over the sounds of Sasuke’s laughter and Sai’s intermittent screams.

“Indeed,” Gaara responds seriously. “Hell wouldn’t be the same without Sai antagonizing everyone.”

Naruto takes one look at Sai’s half-bald head, the uncharacteristic smiles on the devils’ faces, and resolutely stares at his blackening socks. Gaara pauses beside him, gaze growing inquisitive with every moment he spends still and silent, but he doesn’t answer the unvoiced question in his eyes when he moves again.

The only thing he deigns to say is, “this problem had better be serious if _this_ is supposed to be common.”

 

* * *

 

Faced with a melting chandelier dangling precariously by a thread, Naruto can safely say that this is _definitely_ a problem.

Once, the palace Itachi resided in (because there was no other word for the multi-storeyed construct looming over hell, unless it was something like ‘castle’ or ‘mansion’) could’ve been considered grand. Naruto can still see remnants of the finest vases and the oldest paintings, ones he were sure the local museum back home would pay an arm and a leg for, and he was only standing in the _foyer_.

Except that was all they were: remnants. Torn shreds from canvasses, shards of ceramic and china scattered across the floor; destruction was rife in Itachi’s house, and there was no place left untouched. Sneaking a glance to his right, Naruto catches sight of Sai’s vapid attempt at cheer and Gaara’s stiff features, but Itachi’s face is drained of everything and his eyes…

They’d certainly give a dead fish some good competition, as far as Naruto’s concerned.

Before Naruto can get lost in comparisons for Itachi’s eyes, the thread snaps and the chandelier hurtles down, shattering on the floor with an almighty crash and shooting shards in every direction. A glance to his right catches Sasuke grimacing to himself, though the effect is somewhat marred by the pink bow he didn’t quite dislodge from his hair. The sight is enough to coax a muffled snort from him (it’s muffled because he likes being alive and in possession of his body parts, thank you very much), though it’s not enough to make him dismiss the flames in Sasuke’s eyes when he turns to glare.

Flames that make Sasuke’s eyes blood-red and not at all appealing when put together with the bow in his hair, might he add.

“ _Man_ , you demons are freaky,” Naruto mutters, and doesn’t lower his voice at all.

It’s not until he catches Itachi’s whisper-soft progress across the foyer that Naruto remembers where he is and why his comment is, likely, not appropriate. Before he can so much as take it back or wince at his terrible decision-making, an inhuman hiss reverberates in the air.

“ _Who_ did this,” Itachi says, voice sounding just as quiet and infuriated as his hiss did. “Who the _fuck_ came into my house, destroyed everything I had collected over millennia and _didn’t clean up_.”

Naruto thinks they should be questions, given the way they’re framed, but there’s a definitive reddish tinge to Itachi’s eyes and his words, delivered several decibels lower than the average human voice, is not something he’d trifle with. Swallowing thickly, he takes a step back from his first summons, even as someone beside him takes a step forward.

“Oh, just about everybody.” There’s a flippancy to Sai’s tone that Naruto’s honestly not too keen on, but the scantily-clad demon continues on like it’s perfectly normal to discuss such things cheerfully. “Your bed is very comfortable when it comes to orgies, Incestuous.”

“I played no part in this,” Gaara utters, before nodding at Sai and adding, “and nor did he. The demons you seek had fled once you stepped foot in hell.”

Naruto catches what sounds like “what a fucking shit-stirrer” from someone, but it’s hard to tell when everyone around him is either expressionless (Gaara), pretending at expressionless (Itachi and Sasuke) or pretending to be anything _but_ expressionless (Sai). Scrubbing a hand over his face, he rolls his eyes heavenwards when Itachi growls, gaze shifting sporadically between Sai and Gaara, and takes another step back for good measure.

He’s still not sure why he’d been dragged to hell for an impending bitch fight, but…

“You know what?” Naruto flinches a little when four sets of eyes snap towards him, but takes a deep breath before barrelling on. “I didn’t sign up for this. Sure, I accidentally summoned two of you—”

“So Incestuous _hadn’t_ kidnapped Big Dick on a honeymoon,” Sai mutters, face falling a little.

“I guess you owe my brother a sexual favour,” Gaara mutters back, lips twitching strangely.

“— _but this has nothing to do with me_ ,” Naruto loudly finishes, pretending he hadn’t caught the guards’ harrowing exchange. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go home.

“You,” Naruto adds, pointing to Itachi, “can stay and fix up this mess before you come back, because I don’t want you bitching for another month. Goodness knows I don’t want to waste my money on bananas I don’t get to eat.

“As for _you_.” Naruto’s finger shifts to Sasuke, just as the final pink bow slides out of his hair and flops onto the floor. “You’re bringing me back safely, in one piece and without any funny business. Got it?”

Sai’s fake smile widens and Sasuke’s eyes narrow dangerously, but it’s Itachi who speaks up with a cold, “I’m going to feed these demons their _entrails_ when I find them.”

Considering what Itachi promises and does when he’s mildly irritated… Naruto takes a few more steps back, grabs Sasuke’s arm and bodily drags him from the palace, fully intent on getting a headstart back home before he can see anything too traumatizing. By the time he’s lost his handful of devil, Sai’s bounced his way over and found a place by his other side, and there’s no sight of Gaara or his lord in sight. Sasuke, for his part, just snarls at the new addition and gives in with ill grace.

Naruto figures out the reason for his reaction very, _very_ soon.

It’s no wonder that Sai’s sporting another bruise, a dangerously swelling black eye and three dislocated fingers by the time Naruto’s preparing to step out of hell and onto the yellow brick road of purgatory. Given that he can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks and that Sasuke is ready to shake himself out of his skin and do some freaky demon thing, like possess Sai and make him die a horrible death, he’s not sure if anyone’s really won in the end.

Sure, Naruto got to smoosh Sai’s face into the ground, but said sex demon likely knows more than he should’ve ever been privy to. Even if he hadn’t explicitly _said_ anything incriminating, there’s little chance that his reactions didn’t speak for him instead.

 _Especially_ not when one particular question had sparked a bout of swearing so profuse that passing demons had applauded when he was done. There was _no_ way Naruto could live that down, even if he gave out a signed autograph at the end of it.

Given that less time spent around Sai equates to fewer opportunities for embarrassment, though, Naruto quickly shakes himself out of his wallowing and remembers to stick out his hand. The demon might be insufferable, but he’s been raised with a modicum of manners (that Jiraiya was _not_ responsible for) so he may as well use them.

In retrospect, extending his hand to someone with dislocated fingers was likely a bad idea, but the only thing Naruto’s mourning is his innocence when Sai leans forward, fits his back into the curve of his outstretched arm and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“Call me whenever you’re feeling pent up, Dickless,” Sai cheerfully says, despite the pain he’s likely feeling after Sasuke practically _threw_ him off Naruto and dislocated another of his fingers, “and don’t let Big Dick rape you in your sleep!”

“How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to _joke_ about that shit?!” Naruto gives in lieu of a civil response, even as an incredulous (and completely accidental) smile pulls at his lips.

“Like I’d stick my dick anywhere near _you_ ,” Sasuke scoffs, rolling his eyes and gripping Naruto’s wrist. “Now, if you’re quite done playing at the village whore, let’s go back to the dump you call your house.”

“Keep your dick away from me, bastard!” Naruto shrieks, whipping around to glare at Sasuke’s smug face. “And if anyone’s the village whore, it’s _you_. If you have a problem with my home then I’m _more_ than happy to kick your sorry arse onto—”

“Moron, quit _bitching_ already,” Sasuke groans, and teleports them back home.

Before everything fades into white light, Naruto catches Sai’s bright, “Don’t worry, Naruto; you’d make a pretty whore!” but he’s too busy trying not to choke on his anger to reply.

 

* * *

 

When Itachi returns three days later, reeking of bleach and blood and some sort of pine air freshener, Naruto locks himself in his room and thanks his lucky stars that he moved into the master bedroom. He also thanks his exceptional foresight in installing a snack cupboard beside his one for clothes and studiously doesn’t think about the animalistic noises coming from outside his room.

Some things, he thinks, are better left unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't catch it last chapter, this is a continuation of Naruto's journey to hell, which was nominated by [likesthistoo](http://likesthistoo.tumblr.com/) as the first vignette I should write. With that, the first expedition to hell is done and dusted! I say first, because there's likely going to be more trips there... which Naruto would definitely not thank me for.
> 
> The chapter title was inspired by my love of puns and Sai's rather... adult insinuations. The predominate image was Itachi's mansion in ruins and Itachi being absolutely furious about it, and Naruto locking himself in his bedroom once Itachi storms back into the house in all his righteous fury. Also, I am very weak for Sai and his terrible language. And maybe Sasuke with cute accessories in his hair, which inevitably fail to make him look anything but ridiculous.
> 
> For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/). Also, feel free to drop an ask if you want to see a particular scene appearing; I'm still taking responses or expressions of interest so head on over to [this poll](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/post/157425922381/the-devils-in-the-detail-poll) or [my ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask) to drop a suggestion. Alternately, feel free to wait for a new poll compiling all the other new ideas I've received (and which will be up sometime before the next update), or just post a comment here, seeing as I look at all of them anyway~


	6. Love Thy Neighbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > A heartbeat, a breath of silence, and then she finally comes to life with a whispered, “Naruto, I’m in love.”
>> 
>> He stares at Sasuke, then. Takes in the obnoxious yawn splitting his face, the strands sticking every which way on his head and the happy trail disappearing into his poorly-knotted blanket, and looks at his neighbour. Naruto’s seen what the media thinks of attractive people and how they look good, irrespective of what they’re doing, but…
>> 
>> “I think,” Naruto utters, as Sasuke scratches his stomach and stumbles off to the shower with a curse, “they must’ve overworked you at that conference of yours.”
> 
>   
> Naruto gets a visit from his neighbour, which results in a great deal of pain for everyone but the neighbour in question. Also, Itachi learns to appreciate hell a little more, while Sasuke only learns to appreciate how terrifying humans can be. 

Naruto knows it’s going to be one of those insufferably long days when someone kicks his door down. The fact that he hasn’t had his standard toast with coffee only makes things worse, because he can feel a murderous aura coming from the door behind him and he’s _really_ not in the mood to deal with a bitchy Sasuke on top of all this. If _that_ wasn’t bad enough, Itachi’s been waking him at the asscrack of dawn for exercise, morning cleaning or some other trumped-up excuse, too.

Seizing every moment of every day is great and all, but Naruto likes to seize every moment of sleep he can get, too. Staying up for twice or even _thrice_ the number of hours he sleeps does not help in that endeavour at all.

The fact that his insufferable summons are at the root of all this only makes it worse.

Still, sulking in his seat isn’t going to fix his abused front door anytime soon, so Naruto lurches from his seat with a truly pitiful whine and drags himself towards the sound of wood splintering. There’s a lot of people who might be looking for him (like the police, for instance; goodness knows why Itachi and Sasuke never caught onto the whole idea of paying for their items at the grocer’s), but there’s only a few who insist on breaking his door and fewer still who succeed. All those who fit in the latter category are often people he’d rather not see without caffeine buzzing in his system, in all honesty.

So when Naruto catches sight of pink hair, he’s more than ready to wheel around and pretend it’s all a terrible, _terrible_ dream. Unfortunately, the owner of said pink hair disagrees with him.

“Uzumaki Naruto, don’t you _dare_ turn your back on me!” his neighbour yells, pausing for the briefest moment to toe off her shoes before lurching forward to yank him back. “All my damn daffodils are dead because of you, and I _said_ you’d be buying me more if you didn’t water them!”

“S-Sakura, I can’t buy you flowers if I’m dead,” Naruto wheezes, hands scrabbling futilely at his collar.

It’s only when she growls and loosens her grip that he can haul in a lungful of air, just as sweet and welcome as every other time she chokes him. Haruno Sakura may be one of the prettiest girls in town, but years of near-asphyxiation and mild concussions have convinced Naruto that he’s better off treating her like a sister, albeit an overly abusive and high-maintenance one. Given that she’s glaring daggers into him and her hands are curling into fists by her side, he’s willing to demote her a little further now.

Maybe she should just be his crazy neighbour or something. Alternately, he could move houses and forgo a relationship altogether, especially if it means he doesn’t need to water her pernickety flower bed. Who the hell could be bothered to water the darn things every however many hours, anyway?

“Are you listening to me, Naruto?” Sakura hisses, and it’s only _then_ that he realizes she was talking to him.

Moving, Naruto quickly concludes, is honestly his best bet, given that his life is looking less certain with every second. No matter how sweet she is when she’s not angry at him, he thinks his brain cells and eardrums might require a break in the near future.

Now that his ear is being yanked? Naruto sincerely hopes that future comes a little sooner.

Sakura’s in the middle of browbeating him after his unfortunate but entirely honest misstep (“It rained the past three days, I’m sure that’s enough water!” “So what about the _eleven days_ before that, huh?!”) when a lock clicks behind him. Naruto’s hearing had never been any good, especially if someone was shouting in his ear, so he thinks he can be forgiven for yelping when he gets a kick to his heels. Granted, it isn’t a very _hard_ kick, but he’s not exactly paying attention to anything but his impending doom at the hands of his aggravated neighbour.

When he’s done stumbling over (and almost getting another concussion when his head came a little too close to Sakura’s chest for comfort), Naruto’s not surprised to see Sasuke behind him. What he _is_ surprised by comes in the form of the demon’s appearance; specifically, every single facet that isn’t treated or combed or made up to perfection (which is to say, _all_ of it).

“Man, what died in your bed last night?” Naruto blurts out, tactful as always.

“Fuck off, moron,” is the reply Sasuke yawns out.

Naruto’s about to say something equally witty when he registers the absolute silence from his previous conversation partner. A quick glance to his side catches wide green eyes, a half-open mouth and a general slackening of her body, but it’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

Before he can try and guess, though, Sasuke rubs at one eye and mumbles, “I hope you washed the shower; Itachi’s hair keeps clogging up the fucking drain.”

Ordinarily, Naruto would cringe at the profanity; not because it’s Sasuke saying it (since his vocabulary consists of large words and a plethora of curses), but because Sakura has never been tolerant of them. Given that he was clobbered to within an inch of his life before he realized the importance of G-rated language around his neighbour, he’s expecting a fist to fly forth and deck the demon soon… so he’s understandably surprised when Sakura continues staring, glassy-eyed and unresponsive.

A heartbeat, a breath of silence, and then she finally comes to life with a whispered, “Naruto, I’m in love.”

He stares at Sasuke, then. Takes in the obnoxious yawn splitting his face, the strands sticking every which way on his head and the happy trail disappearing into his poorly-knotted blanket, and looks at his neighbour. Naruto’s seen what the media thinks of attractive people and how they look good, irrespective of what they’re doing, but…

“I think,” Naruto utters, as Sasuke scratches his stomach and stumbles off to the shower with a curse, “they must’ve overworked you at that conference of yours.”

“I had more than four hours of sleep each night,” Sakura replies, hand waving vaguely in the air. “I didn’t even have to cover shifts at the local hospital when I had breaks.”

“Yeah, that’s great and all,” Naruto says, “but you still can’t go around falling in love with that asshole.”

“Like _you’re_ one to talk, idiot,” Sakura affectionately grumbles, cuffing him over the head with a less-than-affectionate fist. “Anyhow, I guess I’ll get going for now. Better not let your roommate starve because you’re too busy talking to me, right?”

Before Naruto can get a word in edgewise, Sakura’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and slipping her shoes back on. By the time he’s registered the weirdly nice farewell, she’s already set the door back in its spot and repaired it with a quick charm.

As welcome as the change is, and as much as Naruto appreciates Sakura’s sudden mood shift, he’s seen this enough to know exactly where all this is headed.

It’s just a pity he forgets when Sasuke sets fire to his shower curtains moments later, screeching about long-haired brothers and lazy humans.

 

* * *

 

Dinner is normally a quiet affair for Naruto; before Jiraiya left for the afterlife, he’d grown accustomed to eating by himself, and nothing much has changed since Itachi and Sasuke came into his life. Sure, there are the odd moments when Sasuke threatens his overall wellbeing by cooking and ‘accidentally’ poisoning his portion, which sparks off a shouting match that gets cut off by Itachi’s flaming duster, but it’s not too bad. When he’s not scrounging up meals for himself, and when Itachi’s in a generous mood, he gets to share a meal with someone who appreciates eating at the right times. Otherwise, he makes his own dinner and takes it to his room, where he’ll often eat it while watching a good show.

Unfortunately for him, today’s dinner is neither normal nor quiet. The reason for this is the fourth person at his table, who’s currently attempting (and failing) to engage Sasuke in conversation.

Naruto had barely sat down to a plate of spaghetti bolognaise, made on the spur of the moment after Itachi had graciously mowed the lawn, when there had been an entirely civil knock on the door and Sasuke had wandered off to get it. He’d almost spat out his mouthful when Sakura had flounced into the dining room, tugging a rather unenthusiastic Sasuke in her wake while talking at a mile a minute.

How Itachi had managed to muffle his laughter is a question Naruto will likely never know the answer to, but he had no such compunctions when it came to the resemblance Sasuke had with Grumpy Cat, after Sakura had tried to ask if he was single.

Apparently, “I’m _gay_ , not metrosexual; now stop eyeing me like a cut of meat,” isn’t enough to deter her, if her besotted expression is anything to go by.

Even so, Sakura’s unnaturally good at aiming her kicks beneath the table, as Naruto quickly discovers when he sniggers a little too loud. His shin only hurts worse when he realizes Sakura didn’t even _care_ enough to look for his reaction.

“Pardon my little brother’s lacking manners,” Itachi murmurs, hiding his growing smile in his forkful of spaghetti whilst pretending at being innocent. “He can be quite… abrasive with strangers.”

“Stop sugarcoating my words, _big brother_ ,” Sasuke snarls, tugging futilely at his captured arm. “The only people who cling this tightly are either octopi or harpies.”

This time, the kick to his shin is entirely worth the pained grunt Sasuke makes when Sakura smacks him upside of the head. Even when Naruto gets another well-deserved kick, he can’t stop the loud and entirely ungainly snorts he’s making. It’s not until he’s crying from both the pain in his leg and the pain in his stomach that he stops, but Sakura’s (thankfully) too busy wooing Sasuke to care overly much.

Or, at least, doing whatever she _thinks_ is wooing.

“I’m not that bad once you get to know me, Sasuke,” Sakura sweetly utters, ignoring the incredulous look he gives her at the use of his name (which he likely didn’t give out, but he’s probably never seen the lengths Sakura goes to when she’s interested in someone). “I promise I’ll behave if you watch a movie with me!”

“Because I’m masochistic enough to sit in front of a screen and fry my retinas,” Sasuke deadpans. “Really, how dumb are you mortals?”

While Sasuke’s occupied with the growing lump on his head, Sakura absentmindedly rubs her fist and asks, “What do you mean, ‘you mortals’?”

“Sasuke can be a bit of a megalomaniac,” Itachi smoothly says, because Naruto’s too busy choking on a meatball to reply, “so he says strange things, at times. Would you care for more spaghetti, Sakura?”

“That would be lovely,” Sakura beams, passing her plate to Itachi, “but I’d like it if you didn’t lie, please.”

To Itachi’s credit, all he does is take a little longer than usual to fill Sakura’s plate. Even so, Naruto’s sure he’s not imagining the tightness around his eyes or the hollowness of his serene smile; though, granted, he’s too busy ogling Sakura’s shuttered expression to point it out.

“Sometimes,” Itachi slowly utters, as he hands Sakura’s plate back to her, “people employ white lies and tact for the greater good. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

In the awkward silence settling over the table, Itachi’s chair scrapes against the floor with harsh shrieks that make his padded footsteps noiseless in comparison. Before anyone else can say anything in response, another chair scrapes on the floor and Sasuke leaves as well, forgoing his half-finished plate in favour of some other mysterious pursuit.

By the time Naruto realizes he’s alone with his neighbour, Sakura’s scooted over to pin him with the most intent gaze she’s ever directed at him in his life. Needless to say, his spaghetti becomes seasoned with a good deal of his innards when she leaves, bringing half the dining room and clumps of his hair with her.

 

* * *

 

“If someone knocks the door down,” Naruto utters through his bruised and puffy lips, “don’t answer it. Hide in purgatory, if you need to; just _don’t_ go out and engage her.”

“Why don’t you just kill her and leave it at that?” Sasuke grumbles, voice muffled by the ice-pack he’s pressing to his cheek. “You can’t be _that_ attached to her, can you?”

“We’re not the Grim Reaper, little brother,” Itachi mumbles as he pokes at one of many hickeys on his neck. “No matter how much we despise a particular human, we don’t have the jurisdiction to reap their souls.”

“So I can’t just lead her into temptation or whatever those tacky religious tomes claim I do,” Sasuke bitterly spits. “That just fucking _sucks_.”

“Oh, I think you did that already,” Naruto grouses, glaring balefully at Sasuke, “even though you woke up with fucking _bed hair_ , she thought your goddamn half-naked body was hot enough for her to stalk—”

“Look, do you _think_ I like attracting hos in your town?”

“It’s not like you do anything to _stop_ yourself from attracting them!”

“ _Just because_ I care about my hair more than you do _—_ ”

“This is fun, it truly is,” Itachi drolly utters, “but I think I’m going to visit Sai for a while.”

By the time his puff of smoke has dissipated, Naruto and Sasuke finally become aware of the face pressed up to the nearest window. Even though it’s completely dark outside, there’s no disguising the bright green of Sakura’s eyes as they turn from Itachi’s cooling seat to Sasuke’s face.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the window unlatches and creaks open.

 

* * *

 

“Lord Itachi,” Gaara solemnly begins, “I believe I heard some faint screaming from the earth’s surface.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Itachi hums, sipping the tea Gaara brought him with an approving hum. “It’ll stop when the trouble’s over, I’m sure.”

He gets a sceptical glance for his troubles but, with time, Gaara simply shrugs and offers a platter of biscuits for him to nibble on. All in all, Itachi has to say that _some_ demons, at least, make for good servants. The dull flush Gaara gets when he says as much only serves to make his tea and biscuits taste all the better.

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, reappearing in the room where he’d seen Sakura last was a bad idea.

At least, Itachi wryly thinks, his shoes are the only things that get stained by blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [likesthistoo](http://likesthistoo.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr for nominating this scene as the second vignette I should write! There's just one more before I'm at the end of my requests, so... if you want to get a suggestion in before someone else does, head over to [the updated poll](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/post/158412629236/fucking-hell-poll) and reply with the number you'd like me to write. Alternately, drop a new idea into my [ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask/) or leave a comment here, and I'll get to it soon!
> 
> The chapter title came from one of the Ten Commandments in the bible; given the old English, I'll hazard that it's from the King James version and not investigate too much (because I'm only passingly familiar with the NIV and ESV, myself). The predominate image I had in mind was Sakura falling in love with Sasuke at his 'finest' and everyone suffering from Sakura's idea of love. Note that I don't care much for fangirl!Sakura but I highly approve of BAMF!Sakura, which likely bled into my interpretation of her here.
> 
> For further commentary, tidbits and progress updates, check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/).


	7. You've Got Male!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “What in the everloving fuck is _wrong_ with you?!” Naruto shrieks at Sai, just as Sasuke shuffles through the hole as well. “Get out of my bedroom _right now_ , Sai!”
>> 
>> “But your bed’s really very comfortable, Dickless,” Sai hums sweetly, crawling over to said article of furniture and plopping onto the sheets, “and it even smells like you, too. It’s such a pity that you don’t want to share it with me…”
>> 
>> “It’s not a _pity_ , it’s a _violation_ of my _goddamn privacy_!” 
> 
>   
>  What starts off as routine becomes a lesson in frustration and futility. Also, more is learnt about the inner mechanisms of Sai's mind (or what passes itself off as his questionably existent brain, anyway). 

Naruto remembers a time when he once ran out the door whenever the mailman came, bringing letters in fancy fonts he could hardly read and postcards from places he’d never heard before. Some of them screamed when Jiraiya opened them and others would have things that made him scream with laughter, but sometimes the letters were addressed to him, too. Often, they contained presents his godfather was too stingy to buy; if he were lucky, he’d get candy that made his teeth stick together.

Letters from an outside world that he saw but rarely interacted with had once been like treasure, hoarded greedily at the bottom of his drawers. Even when he grew old enough to memorize the scant words written in them, they still lingered at the back of his mind.

He’s burnt them all, now. Naruto would’ve kept them there forever, if he could, but there was no way he’d wake to ants carrying his drawers away. That was _one_ thing he wasn’t willing to share, amongst other things, and then it’d been a habit to continue burning the rest.

It’s not much of a loss, though. Most letters Naruto received weren’t of much importance anyway, given that the majority were bills and the rest were generally flyers or junk mail. There were some that he was tempted to keep, like the sloppily-written letter from a Nigerian prince seeking his hand in marriage and a plain VHS tape that was simply labelled ‘watch me’, but bonfires were fun. Bonfires on a daily basis meant _s’mores_ on a daily basis, and who was he to deprive himself of such a tasty treat?

“An idiot, that’s what,” Naruto mutters, as he feeds his fire a Viagra ad and watches it curl and smoke in the flames.

“What else is new?” Sasuke snorts from where he’s appeared beside Naruto, deftly stealing a marshmallow from his bag and popping it into his mouth. “I really don’t know how you’ve survived in the world for this long, mortal; I really don’t.”

“My name is Naruto, Satan, _not_ mortal,” Naruto growls, rolling his eyes when Sasuke makes a face and spits out his half-eaten marshmallow, “and _I_ don’t know how someone with such an enormous stick up their arse lives with themselves. Seriously, stop stealing my sweets if you don’t like them!”

“I’ll do what I want, _mortal_ ,” Sasuke sneers, spitefully throwing another stolen marshmallow into Naruto’s fire.

“Don’t make me banish you to laundry duty, asshole!” Naruto yells back.

In the tussle that starts up, the fire burns merrily away at its unfortunate fuel. Soon enough, it’s burnt itself out, but it’s a while longer before Sasuke emerges with tufts of Naruto’s hair in his hands and Naruto’s got Sasuke’s ripped shirt in his own.

So, obviously, nobody sees the Viagra ad flickering strangely whilst the fire’s still alive.

 

* * *

 

Even though Itachi’s in the habit of deconstructing every ward Naruto places around his bedroom, all in the name of ‘ensuring my esteemed summoner lives a long and productive life’, it’s not something he complains about too much anymore. For one, it’s a practical (if not futile and time-consuming) way of improving his charms; the more he improves, the longer it takes his summons to take it down and the more sleep he sneaks in. For another, it’s far more entertaining to see a bedraggled, scratched or dirt-covered Itachi than it is to see an immaculate one, even if he suffers from his summon’s passive aggression for the rest of the day.

It’s gotten to the point where Naruto can sleep in for a whole half-hour past sunrise and Itachi is, more often than not, in a sorry state when he burns the bedroom’s door down. All in all, the start of the day has definitely improved.

So when Naruto wakes up to something hard poking into his thigh and a truly ridiculous time on the clock, he’s not exactly pleased. He was just about to give his summons a good piece of his mind when he turns, comes face to face with a wide smile and blearily realizes that it’s not Itachi.

When Itachi burns a hole in his wall and staggers through it, Naruto’s too busy screaming at Sai to notice. The sex demon, for his part, is too busy palming his dick and casting longing glances at Naruto’s ass to care much for the intrusion, but manages to spare a jaunty wave for Itachi regardless.

“What in the everloving fuck is _wrong_ with you?!” Naruto shrieks at Sai, just as Sasuke shuffles through the hole as well. “Get out of my bedroom _right now_ , Sai!”

“But your bed’s really very comfortable, Dickless,” Sai hums sweetly, crawling over to said article of furniture and plopping onto the sheets, “and it even smells like you, too. It’s such a pity that you don’t want to share it with me…”

“It’s not a _pity_ , it’s a _violation_ of my goddamn _privacy!_ ” Before he could stomp over and drag Sai out of his bed, though, someone beats him to it.

“You’re not allowed to be comfortable if I’m awake,” Sasuke rasps, unceremoniously throttling Sai as he fists his hand into his subordinate’s shirt and throws him onto the floor. “Fuck, the sun hasn’t even _risen_ yet. Can’t you fucking visit at a normal time?”

“And miss out on your elegant language?” Sai asks, equally insincere in its innocence and genuine in its amusement. “You know that I love fucking more than anything else.”

“What you need,” Naruto hisses, “is _mouthwash_.”

“A one-way ticket to hell would be nice, too,” Itachi adds, prying Sai’s shirt from Sasuke’s hand and pushing his still-growling brother away. “But my little brother has a point. Why are you here at such an… inopportune time?”

“Inopportune?” Immediately, Sai’s face slides into careful blankness. “I assumed I was welcome when Dickless didn’t object to my letter.”

“Letter? _What_ letter?” Glaring at Sai’s questioning gaze, Naruto groans, “All I got were bills and stupid flyers!”

“Tell me more about the flyers,” Sai says, as a smile begins forming on his face.

“Look, it’s not even the asscrack of dawn; how would I remember what flyers I’ve burnt in the past however many days?!” Rubbing his head with a truly pitiable noise, Naruto staggers to his feet and mumbles, “I need coffee; this is too much to handle.”

Naruto turns around and pauses, mid-yawn, as he spots the hole in his bedroom wall. When he turns back with a closed-eyed smile, everyone in his bedroom shivers from the sudden chill.

Then his eyes open.

 

* * *

 

“So you’re telling me that you concealed your letter as an ad because you thought nobody would steal it?” Naruto curiously inquires, sipping at his milk- and sugar-laden coffee. “You realize that there are people out there who also steal ads[1], right?”

“I know _now_ ,” Sai mumbles, staring hollowly at his purpling arm, “just as much as I know you’re a dickless ape at heart.”

“ _Please_ shut the fuck up,” Sasuke groans through his bloodied mouth. “If you want to die that badly, fucking do it somewhere else.”

“You’re one to talk, little brother,” Itachi interjects, pulling his attention from his singed hair in favour of sighing through his nose. “You walked into Naruto’s bedroom on your own.”

“And _you’re_ not at fault for burning a fucking hole _into my bedroom wall_ , are you?” Naruto growls. When Itachi casts him a wary glance and wisely clams up, he tacks on an aggrieved, “you know what, you’re all insufferable.”

Given that Naruto’s the only one without any visible injuries (and, more importantly, in possession of some coffee), it’s not surprising that the others glare at him with varying levels of defiance. Given that Itachi burnt a hole into Naruto’s bedroom, allowed Sasuke to stumble through it and then witnessed Sai ruining his summoner’s morning, though…

“ _Insufferable_ ,” Naruto repeats, and downs a searing mouthful of coffee.

Nobody cares to argue, being too absorbed in their injuries to care for much else.

“So tell me, Sai,” Naruto utters, when he’s halfway through his mug, “what sort of ad did you think I’d be most likely to keep and look at? Since, y’know, you wouldn’t have changed it into a lingerie ad… I think.”

The bright grin Sai gives him is far too telling for Naruto’s liking, so he thinks he can be forgiven for regretting his question. Before he can take it back, though, the sex demon chirps, “I guess you don’t care about your dick much, or maybe you just like bottoming more.”

With a weary sigh, Itachi shakes his head and averts his eyes in time to avoid blood splattering in them. Sasuke, for his part, only hisses when one of Sai’s teeth falls disturbingly close to his foot, but doesn’t do much else apart from that.

“We did warn you,” Itachi mildly utters, in the gap between two delayed and drawn-out shrieks. “So don’t blame us later.”

 

* * *

 

“A _Viagra_ ad,” Naruto grouses, nursing his second cup of coffee for the morning. “I know you’re a sex demon, but could you stop obsessing over dicks for, I don’t know, _two seconds maybe?!_ ”

“Would you like me to start a timer?” Sai brightly inquires, though the effect’s just about ruined by his bloodied slurring and swollen eyes.

It doesn’t prevent Sai from smiling widely when Naruto makes an incoherent noise of rage and chokes on a mouthful of coffee, but it doesn’t do much to prevent Sasuke from facepalming, either. Itachi, for his part, makes another attempt at the coffee machine, but quickly returns to his seat when a deep growl emanates from his summoner’s chest. He would’ve been impressed by his human’s propensity for being threatening, were it not for the pounding effects of a caffeine headache.

“Okay,” Naruto sighs, slamming Sai’s hand onto the table when he reaches for the nearest clock, “I did _not_ expect a social call when I woke up this morning– so unless it’s urgent, come back later.”

“Preferably never,” Sasuke grumbles, staring longingly at the coffee machine as he absentmindedly cards a hand through his hair.

“I’m hurt, I truly am,” Sai replies, clutching his chest with a melodramatic sniff. “Can’t I visit my dear friends for the sake of our friendship?”

When three incredulous looks pin him to his chair, Sai raises his hands and airily laughs, “Well, it was worth a try.”

Given that Itachi’s duster is crackling rather menacingly in his hand and Sasuke’s eyes are beginning to bleed from brown to red, Naruto’s not surprised to see Sai’s weak smile fade rather rapidly. Even so, no force in the world can stop him from making a pass at the warm cup of coffee on the table, milk- and sugar-laden as it is.

The only reason for Naruto’s low growl, rather than another pummelling, is not mercy; it’s because there’s no other visible places to beat Sai black and blue. It doesn’t stop him from aiming an aggrieved swipe at the sex demon’s hand, though.

“Well?” Naruto demands, when Sai begins rubbing his reddening palm. “What was so important that you needed to crawl into my bed at this godforsaken time?”

There’s a moment when Sai’s face lights up, likely at Naruto’s poor wording in his latter statement, but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a deceptively mild, “Everyone’s just worried about Incestuous and Big Dick– or is it strange for demons to have hearts?”

“Of course not,” Naruto deadpans, “except I think you’re the exception to that rule. Now, if you’re done playing games, could you tell me the truth?”

“Who says I’m not?” Sai chirps brightly, but caves in when three pairs of unimpressed eyes swivel to stare at him. “If you’d just looked at my letter, Dickless…”

“Sai,” Itachi politely starts, resting his hand on said sex demon’s arm in the most questionably friendly manner Naruto’s ever seen, “you may be acting Satan, but I _will_ devour your soul if I don’t get coffee in the next ten minutes.”

Naruto would be impressed by how pale Sai goes at his first summon’s thinly veiled threat, except Itachi’s eyes had flickered to him midway through it. Somehow, he thinks he can sympathise with the sex demon when he swallows, tries at his usual fake smile and fails more dismally than usual.

Except Naruto’s feeling less charitable when Sai finally manages to croak out, “Expired Relic wanted to send his regards to Incestuous and Big Dick, though he said he wouldn’t pay for your honeymoon.”

In the ensuing silence, Sai tries at his smile again, but stops when his lips crack and bleed.

“So,” Naruto slowly utters, “you’re telling me that this… Expired Relic…”

“The first ruler of hell and our ancestor,” Itachi helpfully supplies.

“That’s great,” Naruto absentmindedly mumbles, “but let me get this straight.

“You’re telling me,” Naruto iterates, becoming louder with each successive word, “that you spooned me in _my_ bed, provoked Itachi into burning a _hole_ into my _wall_ and made yourself a _fucking nuisance_ to _everyone_ here because you wanted to deliver a goddamn _message_ to us?!”

“Pretty much,” Sai blandly replies, and Sasuke lets his head thunk against the table.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he groans into the polished wood, before blearily eyeing Naruto and adding, “I’ll clean the kitchen when we’re done with him.”

“I’ll help,” Naruto grimly affirms, and cracks his knuckles.

“We’ve got enough disinfectant to cover it,” Itachi solemnly states, “but I’ll find more if we don’t.”

“Good enough for me.” With a broad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, Naruto turns to a bemused-looking Sai and brightly says, “Here’s what you can tell that ‘Expired Relic’ of yours when you get back, so make sure you pay _close_ attention to what we’ve got to say.”

“Okay!” Sai agreeably chirps, and promptly screams when Sasuke shoves a hand into his ribcage.

 

* * *

 

That was the day Naruto learnt to erect wards around his house. Specifically, ones that worked against sex demons acting as Satan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Elfin_Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfin_Queen) for nominating this scene as the third vignette I should write! After this will follow a slew of requests from a reader on Tumblr... but if you'd like to pitch in and either double up on their requests or make your own, please head over to [the updated poll](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/post/158412629236/fucking-hell-poll) and cast your vote through my [ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask/) or leave a comment here, and I'll get to it soon!
> 
> The chapter title came from some sort of rom-com without the tacky homonym; I've never watched it and what I know comes from a _Haikyuu!_ fanfic, so I guess I just liked puns enough to parody it. The predominate image I had in mind was Sai being a nuisance, Sai traumatizing everyone and everyone killing him for it. I'd apologize for my obsession with Sai, but I quite like torturing him and inflicting him upon others.
> 
> As per usual, for further commentary and tidbits, please check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/).


	8. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > “Do whatever the _fuck_ you want,” Naruto hisses, drawing himself up to his full height to glare Itachi and Sasuke into submission (to no avail). “But if you make trouble for me _one more time_ , I’ll make sure you both regret _ever_ screwing me over.”
>> 
>> When Naruto storms from the room, he catches Itachi glancing surreptitiously at Sasuke. The last thing he hears, before he goes out of earshot, is a feral and entirely too pleased, “Challenge accepted.”
>> 
>> . . .
>> 
>> When Naruto opens the door to a red-caked Sasuke, he slams the door back into his face.
> 
>   
> Naruto tries to rein in Sasuke's and Itachi's penchant for being a public nuisance, with disastrous results. Also, 2k of really unsatisfactory porn gets written. The author's not even sorry, at this point in their life. 

Naruto remembers having a curfew, once; it had started with child services rescuing him from a sewer at 3am and a very stern talking-to that his godfather pretended to acknowledge. For the week that he’d been made to stay at home from 8pm to 8am, he’d entertained himself with a large pair of headphones and Netflix, which hadn’t been all that bad. Of course, there were moments when Jiraiya’s _activities_ made him tempted to crawl out the window, but his godfather was usually busy ‘sampling produce’ (in his own questionable terms) in the local cabaret clubs. Overall, the curfew week had been just another blip in the long reel of his life.

That was the problem, though, because Naruto had no concrete ideas about implementing a curfew, let alone enforcing it. Apart from the few instances when he fled the house and whatever disturbing activities were happening inside, he never really went outside much after dark. What was the point in having a curfew if your godfather couldn’t remember to come home on his own, anyway?

So Naruto thinks he’s allowed to swear deep, _deep_ down when Itachi quirks a brow at him.

“Are you saying,” Itachi starts slowly, “that you’ll… _forbid_ us from leaving this house after sunset?”

“And this is all because you don’t _trust_ us?” Sasuke sardonically adds, arching his brow in exactly the same way Itachi’s doing. “Gee whiz, I wonder what brought _this_ on.”

Naruto rolls his eyes, because talking about the constant visits from the police will only make the demons smirk at one another, and mutters, “You’re being treated like kids because you both _act_ like one, so don’t argue back.”

“Now, what sort of children would we be if we didn’t put up a fight?” Itachi’s voice is so lightly innocent that it comes right round the other end of devious, which is why Naruto’s eyes narrow when he adds, “Besides, you know how long it takes to clean my house. Hurrying back to satisfy your whims would mean I’d leave it unfinished... and you know what I’m like when things aren’t up to my standards.”

Given that Naruto _really_ doesn’t need a repeat of the last time Itachi was denied his cleaning, he’s understandably torn by this new revelation. Judging from the way the overlord of hell is smiling, though, he’s well aware of the thoughts currently running through his head. The deadpan stare he’s getting from Sasuke really helps, too.

“Then I’ll just make an exception for the days you’re cleaning,” Naruto huffs, several seconds too late and in the midst of stifling demonic smugness. “Now, if you’re both done being assholes…”

“Not really,” Sasuke says, just as lightly and twice as devious for it. “You do realize that Itach’ could tell you he’s cleaning when he’s really torching the grocer’s, don’t you?”

“And you can’t just… oh, I don’t know… _follow orders like a normal summon?_ ” Naruto snaps back.

“What part of us _looks_ like a normal summon, you idiotic mortal?” Sasuke scoffs loudly.

Tellingly, Itachi’s the only one paying close attention to the way Sasuke sweeps a hand over his body. Naruto, for his part, is pointedly examining his socks for bits of lint.

“Okay, look,” Naruto eventually growls, when he’s sure Itachi isn’t ogling his younger brother’s dick anymore, “just… just stop getting me into trouble because you can’t behave yourselves, alright?”

“But we _are_ behaving ourselves,” Itachi says, mild as milk. “After all, we _are_ satanic beings.”

In the ensuing silence, Sasuke rolls his eyes and discreetly flips off Itachi.

“You know what,” Naruto sighs heavily, averting his eyes from the matching smirks on his summons’ faces, “get into trouble if you want. Hell, _kill_ someone if it’ll make you happy. I’ll hand you over to the goddamn police and wash my hands clean of you, so you can just do whatever the fuck you want!”

“Does that mean you’re not going to place a curfew on us anymore?” Itachi politely inquires, and Naruto sees red.

“Do _whatever_ the _fuck_ you want,” Naruto hisses, drawing himself up to his full height to glare Itachi and Sasuke into submission (to no avail). “But if you make trouble for me _one more time_ , I’ll make sure you both regret _ever_ screwing me over.”

When Naruto storms from the room, he catches Itachi glancing surreptitiously at Sasuke. The last thing he hears, before he goes out of earshot, is a feral and entirely too pleased, “Challenge accepted.”

Honestly, though, Naruto doesn’t really want to know who said it. The less he knows, the better.

 

* * *

 

When Naruto opens the door to a red-caked Sasuke, he slams the door back into his face.

It’s not the first time this has happened; most times, there’s also a long-suffering policeman playing escort, and the fact that he’s on good terms with the usual culprit only makes things worse. This time, though, there had been no Shikamaru in sight and he’s _pretty_ sure he’d seen a tattered police uniform in one of Sasuke’s hands. Either way, it certainly explains the faint screams he heard a half-hour ago.

It also goes partway to explaining the smug and somewhat maniacal grin on Sasuke’s face… but the less Naruto dwells on that, the more his sanity will thank him for it. The same goes for all that red, which he doesn’t think is tomato sauce.

Naruto’s midway through a snicker when all thoughts of Sasuke bathing in tomato juice disappear. Having a door thrown in his face might be a good reason for that, but all he’s thinking about is the pain when said door crushes him. By the time he crawls out from beneath it, muttering all sorts of profanities under his breath, Sasuke’s crouching down and giving him the most shit-eating smirk he’s ever seen in his life.

Given that Sai is a master of them, despite putting absolutely no effort into it, that’s saying something. So’s the involuntary chill that freezes his spine when Sasuke brushes a thumb across his upper lip, because…

“Holy shit, is that _blood?!_ ” Up close, the metallic stench is stronger than ever, but Naruto’s too busy scrubbing at his lip and purging the taste from his mouth to fully recognise it. “What the hell, do you _want_ to rot in jail for the rest of your life?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions if you don’t want a stupid answer, moron,” Sasuke throatily laughs, slicking more blood (and how the hell did he get _so much blood_?) through his hair when he runs a hand through it, and mocks, “but really, what makes you think your weak race could hope to keep me locked up?”

It’s a valid enough question, as far as questions go. If Naruto, who is _supposed_ to have some control over Sasuke, can’t even get him to abide by a curfew, what chance does the rest of humanity stand? The fact that he can also teleport between the underworld and the regular world probably doesn’t help, either, but he does his best to grit his teeth against the mounting evidence. The less leverage he gives his summon, the better it’ll be in the long run.

Unfortunately, it’s also easier said than done.

“Stop fucking _marking_ me!” Naruto yelps, flinching from Sasuke’s questing fingers. He swipes at the drying streaks of blood as best as he can, growls when he feels it smudge even more on his face, and snarls, “You’d better have a good explanation for why you’re blood-soaked, or so help me…”

“You’ll definitely need help when I’m done with you, mortal boy,” Sasuke downright _purrs_ , and then Naruto finally gets it.

The way Sasuke’s pupils are blown wide with only the slimmest ring of red around them. The breath fanning across his face, warmer and sharper and shallower than usual. The bulge of his pants stretched thin over his erect cock, threads straining from the pressure.

“Well, fuck,” Naruto rasps through his desert-dry throat, and scoots back a little more.

“That’s the general idea, yes,” Sasuke rumbles, low and richly amused, and Naruto does _not_ feel his dick twitching in interest.

Judging from the way Sasuke’s eyes zero in on his crotch, though, Naruto’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding exactly _what_ his voice and presence is doing to him. Even though he knows the demon will hear him, he swears in the depths of his mind anyway.

As per usual, though, Sasuke doesn’t give a flying fuck about his frustration.

“What’s wrong, mortal boy?” Sasuke teases, palming his cock and letting a faint hiss escape his lips. “Didn’t you say you were going to make me _regret_ screwing you over?”

“That was _not_ an innuendo,” Naruto snaps, averting his eyes from Sasuke’s hand when his summons starts rubbing himself in earnest, “and what the hell, stop _doing that!_ ”

“Doing what?” a new voice inquires, and Naruto almost cries when Itachi drifts in through the front door.

Except…

“Fucking hell, what’re _you_ covered in?!” Naruto squawks, eyes bulging at the viscous liquid dripping off Itachi. When his summon quirks a brow at him, though, he shakes his head and mutters, “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

Itachi opens his mouth, likely to say something politely infuriating in response, but then his gaze drift to Sasuke when his younger brother moans. For a moment, he stands frozen in the doorway, eyes widening imperceptibly when Sasuke roughly unzips his pants and shoves a hand into his underwear.

Then Naruto rolls his eyes, sighs through his nose and loudly proclaims, “I’m outta here.”

Leaving Itachi’s eyes to bleed red, Naruto staggers to his feet and stumbles towards his room. He valiantly pretends he doesn’t need to adjust himself when a rumbling growl echoes down the hallway, moments before he closes his door.

 

* * *

 

Naruto’s tried everything. He took a cold shower in his ensuite, listened to heavy metal at full volume and watched snippets of funny cat videos, but there’s still something gnawing at his mind and he just can’t get _rid_ of it. Rubbing his face with one hand when he fails to laugh at the latest video, he exits his browser and takes off his headphones.

The only thing that greets him is the stifling sound of silence.

Honestly, Naruto doesn’t know (and doesn’t _want_ to know) what his summons are up to, given that he’s been hiding in his room for the past half-hour. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, there’s no other way to phrase what he’s doing; he’s _hiding_ , pretending he didn’t see the full-blown lust in Itachi’s eyes when he’d escaped from Sasuke, and he’d feel ashamed if he wasn’t feeling other things. Sure, he doesn’t really want an eyeful of gay sex, especially when one of them’s covered in _blood_ , but…

“They’re probably done by now,” Naruto mutters in some twisted attempt at self-reassurance, and drags himself from his bed.

Naruto’s hand wavers in the space between himself and the doorknob, because what if they’re _not_ done or, worse, were waiting to see if they could traumatize him further? It’s not something he’d put past his summons, given that they specifically went out of their way to come home looking far worse than they usually did, but his door’s broken. Chances are, they didn’t do a thing to fix it because they’re satanic beings who wouldn’t know a good deed if it paraded nude before them.

The thought of them fucking in his doorway, in plain sight of scandalized workers returning home from their shifts, is enough to make Naruto fling his door open.

Thankfully for Naruto, there’s only a puddle of drying blood and whatever Itachi was covered in when he tiptoes to the front door (or what’s left of it, anyway). Huffing at splinters and larger blocks of wood scattered around, because Jiraiya had scrolls filled with dark magic but not a single sheet on more practical things, he nudges the largest of them to the side and glares outside. The cat seated on his lawn only gazes coolly back before lifting its tail and sauntering away, most likely to go terrorize some other person’s yard in hopes of catching a bird or a rat.

At the very least, there aren’t any other people in sight, so Naruto thanks his lucky stars and turns back inside. He’ll just enlist Itachi’s help in cleaning the remnants of their front door out of the entry (because the last time Sasuke was dragged into cleaning is also the last time he ever wants to be wheeled away for acid burns) before calling someone to come over and fix his house with a new door.

Speaking of Itachi and Sasuke, though…

They’re not in the entrance. They’re not in the kitchen (hey, his stomach was _growling_ , okay?) and they’re not in the living room. They’re not in their beds, the front yard, the _back_ yard and the basement. Then again, Naruto’s never really showed them the basement, so it’d be a bit odd if he found them there… but the fact still remains that they are _nowhere_ to be found.

It’s whilst Naruto’s pacing back and forth in the hallway, threading fingers through his hair and shaking his head back and forth a little jerkily, that he finally hears something other than his erratic breaths and even more erratic heartbeats. It comes from a place so obvious that, for one precious moment, the frantic worry from wondering if his summons went out again morphs into anger directed at himself, for overlooking the _bathroom_ of all places, and his dumb summons, for obvious reasons.

So he thinks he can be forgiven for flinging the bathroom door open, some sort of loud insult on the tip of his tongue for his stupid, _stupid_ summons. In Naruto’s defence, he was a little too consumed by rage to realize that the door was locked (and he’d have to _replace_ the lock, goddammit) and that it was locked for a good reason.

Said good reason stares him right in the face as Itachi spreads Sasuke’s legs wider and pounds right into him, wrenching a choked gasp from his younger brother’s throat and a deep groan from his own.

Some dim spark in the back of Naruto’s mind is irrationally glad that this is happening in the bathroom. For one, Sasuke’s still half-drenched in red and Itachi’s no better, streaks of it on his torso and down his legs. There’s blood caking his hands from where he’s gripping his younger brother’s legs, nails digging into his thighs as his cock continues to glide in and out of Sasuke’s clenching ass. There’s blood on Itachi’s nose, from where he’s nuzzling against the junction between Sasuke’s neck and shoulder; Itachi’s lips, from where he’s brushed them against disappearing patches of blood; and Itachi’s tongue, from where he’s licking it all up. There’s blood and whatever Itachi’s got fucking _everywhere_ and it’s the most filth Naruto’s ever seen in his house since Jiraiya eloped to hell.

The fact that Itachi’s mystery substance is starting to look more and more like plain lube isn’t really helping Naruto, either. The fact that Sasuke’s eyelids are cracked open so that his bleary red eyes are staring _right at him_ when he moans, low and throaty, only makes it worse.

 _Infinitely_ worse, topped with a generous helping of _well shit, my dick’s hard_.

“Naruto,” Itachi growls lowly, effectively switching his attention from Sasuke’s leaking cock to his older brother’s piercing red eyes, “Shut the door, it’s fucking cold.”

Without a word, Naruto nudges the door shut behind him.

“Now,” Itachi rasps, punctuating his words with renewed thrusts into Sasuke’s lightly trembling body, “come over here.”

Naruto knows, on some intuitive level, that he’s got control over Itachi and Sasuke; that regardless of how much they protest or complain, they must follow direct commands from him. He knows that they are Hypersatan and Satan respectively, that they are demonic beings who fuck and swear and do just about everything wrong and inappropriate in society’s eyes. He knows that, mortal though he is, there is something that distinguishes him from the immoral, chaotic beings before him; he knows how to judge right from wrong.

All these things weigh on Naruto’s mind as Sasuke throws his head back and releases a guttural moan, nails digging into the back of Itachi’s head as he scrabbles for purchase. When two pairs of slitted red eyes, one hazy and one maniacal, lock onto his indecisive gaze, he squares his shoulders and hardens his resolve.

With three strides, Naruto brings himself into Sasuke’s personal space and sinks fluidly to his knees.

It’s hard to ignore the blood that instantly soaks his pants, especially when Naruto still doesn’t know if it’s from someone he knows. It’s harder still to ignore the way Sasuke’s cock is dribbling steadily, precum tracing a path beside a prominent vein pulsating wildly beneath the flushed purple-red skin, or the way his breath hitches and expels in a moan every time Itachi drags his length in and out. Unconscious of his own light panting and swelling dick, Naruto licks his lips and feels, rather than sees, red eyes watching his tongue.

It’s disgusting and immoral and there’s _definitely_ a cock ring preventing Sasuke from cumming, but he takes in all in anyway. Heady with arousal, the broken sounds falling from Sasuke’s mouth and the slick sounds of Itachi pressing into him over and over again, Naruto leans forward and closes his lips around the weeping head.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Sasuke rasps, before a guttural groan cuts off whatever else he has to say.

Naruto swirls his tongue experimentally, dipping into the leaking slit every so often with each pass he makes over the top. Itachi chooses the same moment to grind into Sasuke, pressing against his prostate and dragging the blunt head of his cock over it with every deliberate move, and his younger brother’s groans dissolve into slurs of Itachi’s name and every expletive he’s ever heard. It’s more than enough to make Naruto’s ears bleed, under normal circumstances, but this is hardly normal and all he does is take in more of Sasuke’s dick.

He tries not to smirk too much when Sasuke chokes midway through a word and arches his back, clearly torn between thrusting further into Naruto’s mouth or pressing back against Itachi’s throbbing cock, but at least his summons aren't looking too closely at him to see if he succeeded or not.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Sasuke?” Itachi purrs, just loud enough to carry over the wet slide of his dick and Naruto’s mouth. “Do you like having your older brother fuck you while your _mortal_ sucks you dry?”

Another ragged groan tears itself from Sasuke’s throat as his cock throbs dangerously, orgasm barely restrained by the ring cinched at the base. Digging the heel of his palm against his own twitching length, Naruto uses his other hand to press his younger summon's perineum, taking in Sasuke’s cock as deep as he can until the tip hits his throat.

It’s fucking uncomfortable, to put things nicely. Given that Naruto had never exactly dreamt of doing guys, much less _deep-throating Satan_ , he thinks he can be forgiven for letting his eyes water a little, especially when he times the presses of his hand just right and Sasuke’s prostate is assaulted from within and without. He doesn’t think he’ll be getting the taste of dick out of his mouth anytime soon...

But _boy_ does Sasuke make the nicest groan to compensate.

“Fuck, shit, someone let me fucking _cum_ you sadistic motherfuckers—”

Naruto looks up in time to catch Itachi wrenching Sasuke’s head to the side so he can plunge his tongue into his younger brother’s mouth, but rolls his eyes when Sasuke viciously bites down on Itachi’s tongue. When his younger summon moans headily at the blood dotting his lips and spilling from the other’s mouth, he slips his hand (the one that isn’t on his dick, mind you, because it’s not like anyone’s giving _him_ any action) over Sasuke’s cock ring and lets it slide off with his mouth.

Sasuke’s only got enough time to glance down before Naruto sinks back down on him again. When Itachi reclaims his lips with a desperate open-mouthed kiss and grinds right into his prostate again, well…

Naruto’s just lucky he didn’t choke _more_.

 

* * *

 

There’s a new message on his phone when Naruto gets to it, sometime before the asscrack of dawn and a good half-hour after he tried scrubbing everything off himself. Gargling to get rid of the residual taste of Sasuke’s cum and taking great care to leave his spectacularly bruising hickeys alone, he swipes blindly at the screen and curses when he almost sends it careening off the table, but manages to save it in time. It’s not until he’s set his half-empty glass aside and opened his eyes that he realizes it’s hours old, likely sent sometime after Sasuke stumbled home but before The Bathroom Fiasco, and it’s from none other than his favourite law-enforcing policeman.

Needless to say, Naruto’s thoughts are about as pleasant as they come when he presses it, belatedly realizes it’s a voicemail and presses it to his tender ear.

“Yo,” Shikamaru drawls, casual as ever. “Kiba’s going to feed your Sasuke to his dogs if he tries to steal from his store again. Also, you owe me a new set of uniform. Don’t make Sakura ring up and press charges while you tell him off and teach him some manners; I need my sleep. I’ll be down to give you a formal warning sometime tomorrow, so Ino doesn’t have my ass for skipping formalities.”

The automated voice prompting him to replay or delete the message has faded into silence by the time Naruto gathers himself again, but Sasuke’s barely got time to crack open an eye before he’s got a faceful of spittle in his face. In between rants about the butcher’s, physical assault and sheer ridiculousness, Itachi groans and presses a pillow to his face, mumbling about stupid little brothers and loud summoners.

Predictably, Naruto stomps right over to give Itachi an earful, too.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Sasuke ventures, when Naruto’s finally stormed off with an impressive slew of swear words, “I still think I won that challenge.”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Itachi grouses, and promptly throws a pillow at Sasuke’s face.

Only good fortune (and a well-aimed pillow) saves Itachi from seeing Sasuke's diabolical grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [channa-wisteria](https://channa-wisteria.tumblr.com/) for thrusting me headfirst into hell, popping my first actual SIN porn cherry and giving me a list of prompts to last me until the end of the year, at the rate I'm updating. I may intersperse my current requests from channa-wisteria with those from other readers, though, so feel free to flick through [the updated poll](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/post/158412629236/fucking-hell-poll) and cast your vote through my [ask box](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/ask/) or a comment on here.
> 
> The chapter title was really just going to be _The Fine Line Between Ketchup and Homicide_ until I decided to make it punny instead, so you get the current chapter title instead. The predominate image I had in mind was Sasuke reacting to blood like it's some sort of A-grade drug (don't do drugs, kids) and Sasuke getting a blowjob from Naruto while Itachi fucked him from behind. I'd apologize and beg for forgiveness, but I'm enjoying being roasted in hell (and finally, _finally_ ramping up the rating to Explicit).
> 
> As per usual, for further commentary and tidbits, please check out my [tumblr](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/) or this [associated link](http://chiarosekuro.tumblr.com/waffles/).
> 
> [ Edited May 1, 2017 - minor spelling/wording changes ]  
> [ Edited March 3, 2018 - fixing more spelling errors ]


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